With my first child on the way, I read up on the benefits of breastfeeding and knew it was something I wanted to try. My family was supportive and encouraging of my decision to breastfeed each of my three children. But that support slightly wavered the older each child got.

I breastfed my children for 18, 20 and 22 months respectively, and I have no regrets. Not even the side eyes directed my way dampened my experience nursing them. 

Extended breastfeeding taught me so much about myself and my capabilities as a mom. From perseverance to strengthening the bond with my children, I wouldn't go back and change anything about our journeys.

Why we chose extended breastfeeding

I'll be the first to admit that I didn't consciously choose to breastfeed my first child into toddlerhood. I wasn't really familiar with breastfeeding at all when I found out I was pregnant. I couldn't distinctly remember if any of my younger cousins were bottle-fed or breastfed. Even if they had been breastfeed, I'm sure I was never allowed to witness it.

Breastfeeding in the Black community is something that (until recently) hasn't been done very openly. Black mothers disproportionately experience a number of barriers to breastfeeding, including lack of access to education and professional or peer support, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC).[1]

At the time, the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) recommended exclusive breastfeeding for the first six months, then continuing to offer breastmilk alongside solid foods until 12 months old. I didn't really know if there were benefits to continuing breastfeeding beyond then. Even my child's doctor told me that since my son was old enough to drink cow's milk, breastfeeding had become more for my own comfort than for his benefit. I had so many people deeming it unnecessary at that point, but my own maternal instincts were telling me to keep going. 

Today, more research supports the benefits of breastfeeding your child into toddlerhood. The AAP now recommends exclusively breastfeeding for six months and supports continued breastfeeding for two years and beyond, as breast milk is highly nutritious — continuing to provide a balanced mix of proteins, fats, carbohydrates, vitamins and minerals tailored to your child's growing needs.[2]

Breastfeeding into toddlerhood has been linked to protection from various infections and illnesses, supplemental nutrition and cognitive development. There are many benefits for moms as well, including lower blood pressure and a reduced risk of developing certain cancers or postpartum depression. 

What it's like breastfeeding a toddler

Breastfeeding a baby for the first time came with its own set of trials. My oldest son had a poor latch, which can cause split nipples, and it nearly led me to quit. With my second, we developed thrush (which honestly felt 10 times worse than the split nipples). Yet breastfeeding toddlers is a different ball game.

It was easier in some ways. As my babies got older, they were able to understand when and where it was appropriate to nurse and ate with far less fuss than when they were little. (There's still nothing like a little person walking up to you and lifting your clothes up demanding to eat.) But toddlerhood was when I really took a step back to think about what we were doing. I learned a lot about my strength and perseverance through this process.

I was introduced to the world of "gymnurstics." I have yet to nurse a toddler who didn't think it was possible to flip, headstand and do acrobatics while still attached to me. I also constantly questioned myself, worrying about whether my children were opting to breastfeed for the convenience of it all rather than eating solid foods, which took them more work. Each month, I would evaluate how long we should continue, but I stuck with it.

How others reacted to my decision to keep breastfeeding

Extended breastfeeding is still pretty rare and therefore considered unusual by societal standards. By 12 months, only 36 percent of moms are still breastfeeding, according to the CDC.[3] That number goes down to 16 percent at 18 months. 

As a Black woman, I was in even more of a minority: Only 24 percent of Black women breastfeed at 12 months. Barriers to breastfeeding still exist in the U.S., including a lack of care systems that support breastfeeding education. Factors like the oversexualization of Black bodies, a traumatizing history of "wet nurses" and job flexibility contribute to the statistics. 

My peers were often stunned that I decided to breastfeed at all, let alone for nearly two years. Once my children were toddlers, I'd heard everything from "I couldn't do it because it felt sexual" to "that baby is old enough to eat on its own." 

It feels weird that other people even had an opinion about something that had no direct effect on them or their bodies, but it was clear I was expected to make accommodations. I found myself trying to breastfeed my toddler when nobody else was around so I wouldn't have to deal with opinions. If we were out in public, I would make sure I had snacks packed until we could be alone. 

Yet I spent many a work day manually pumping in my car to keep up my supply. I searched the internet to find supportive outlets like Breastfeeding Support Group for Black Moms on Facebook and creators who were sharing their journeys on Instagram. And while I had my partner's unwavering support in every step of my breastfeeding journey, I didn't look to him for that either. There were only two people whose comfort I was truly concerned about — mine and my baby. 

How I knew our extended breastfeeding journey was over

While I know that many moms choose to breastfeed further into toddlerhood, I didn't make it quite to 2 years old with any of my little ones. Each time, I knew breastfeeding was coming to an end. 

There were points in all of our journeys where I could clearly distinguish comfort nursing from nursing for a necessity. I knew they were ready to stop, and more importantly, I was ready to take my body back as well. There was no guilt for me in ending breastfeeding

However, when I stopped nursing my daughter, our youngest and last baby, I did feel a mix of emotions. I wanted it to be over but also knew I'd never be needed in this way again. I mourned the end of her breastfeeding journey the most, and that is a completely normal and valid feeling. However you decide to wean your baby, know that it comes with its highs and lows, joys and sadness. Though it's hard, you will get through it. 

Extended breastfeeding was a beautiful experience for our family. And while in my community it may not be the norm, I hope that more beautiful Black women will embrace their ability to give and sustain life with their bodies. We were made for this.