August 2nd, 2023 marked the day I breastfed her for the very last time. She was 21 months old.
The schedule before she went to daycare at 8 months old was like this:The night before sleep: I breastfed her.
Around midnight: I pumped one side.
Early in the morning before everyone woke up: I pumped the same side.
When she woke up: I breastfed with the other side.
At work: I pumped every 4 hours and later pumped when I got home before picking her up (2 bags).
So, in total, I could provide four bags and brought three with her to school.
But the schedule changed during Ramadan as my production was decreasing due to fasting. I was confused about whether I should fast or not. To be honest, I would have loved to use the green card as a breastfeeding mother to skip fasting, but it didn't feel right because I already planned to stop breastfeeding. So, I still fasted, and I could only provide her with three bags per day with the same schedule.
I thought it was a good decision until the day she was sick, and I couldn't give her enough supply. Lesson learned: if your milk production is affected by your food or water intake, skip fasting even though you think it's the right time to start reducing the frequency.
Fast forward, I really wanted to stop breastfeeding, so I told her that our time was approaching, and she cried every time I told her before she went to sleep (I still breastfed her). I kept telling her and started to distract her whenever she asked for breastfeeding. I also introduced her to formula milk.
At the time I really, really wanted to stop, I refused her request. Several times she cried, but other times I thought she understood, and the frequency was decreasing.
And on August 2nd, when we arrived in Osaka feeling so tired, she tried to ask for breastfeeding, and I gave her it for the last time.
She still asks several times until now, but I'm not sure if I still have some left. So, I just keep refusing her request, simply by telling her that I no longer have milk.
But here is the most heart-breaking part: She is sick again, and there was a time I thought she wanted it, but she knew she could not have it, and she only stared at my breast looking so sad.
