In Honour of World Breastfeeding Week: The Final Feed
- stephanie sousa
- Aug 6
- 5 min read
What better time to talk about the final feed than world breastfeeding week?

I gave Margaux her final feed a few weeks ago. But, I had to wait a couple of weeks to actually write this post. I needed time to process the feelings. It feels a little like a loss.
Not a massive loss, but like if you lost a twenty-pound note out your purse.
Breastfeeding is a strange one; it’s a journey that starts off oh so rocky and then the waters smooth, only to be hit by another storm.
Considering I never even knew if I wanted to breastfeed and just went in with the mentality of ‘I’ll give it a go’, I am so proud of myself for exclusively breastfeeding for 11 months.
I bottle-fed my two older children, and over the last year, I have often been asked why I chose to breastfeed Margaux. If truth be told (did anyone else read that in Nessa’s voice or just me?)
Anyway… if truth be told, I always regretted that I never even tried to breastfeed with my older kids and just thought if I ever got the chance to have another baby, I would at least give it a go.
The Early Days…
I've made a previous post about the struggles at the start of breastfeeding, where I included product recommendations to help you get through it, and talked about how I struggled to find the magic.
The best advice to anyone starting breastfeeding or who is considering it is just to wait it out those first two weeks.
If you can survive those first two weeks, you can survive almost anything; you just need to give your nipples some time to toughen up.
Oh, and if you plan to breastfeed to save money, I'll tell you the bad news straight. You will not save money.
You’ll spend more, arguably. By the time you buy different pumps, different products like nipple creams, and not to mention all the late-night online shopping you’ll be doing. It creates a slight financial drain if anything, really.
Especially for a self-diagnosed shopaholic like myself.

The Middle…
And then it became something else. No longer did my toes curl at every feed, no longer did I watch the minutes pass on the clock, hoping that it would be over any second. I looked forward to our quiet solace together.
There was no eureka moment where the magic other mothers spoke of came; It slowly crept up on me and I realised the specialness of it. It brings a bond like nothing else could.
However, I do not want to glamorise it completely. The glamorisation is a part of the problem. I think that’s why so many mothers quit, because you really don’t know what you’re getting yourself in for.
Some days it is SO hard. There are days when you are overwhelmed, overstimulated, and simply over touched, the last thing you want to do is breastfeed.
And god, how I hated expressing milk.
I would compare it to sticking on false lashes …. If you know, you know.
Oh, and the teeth, my god. Some days I genuinely thought ‘omg what if Margaux bites my nipple off!’ To be fair, even when they clamp down and it's just with their gums, it hurts like holy hell.
I’m told not all babies bite, but boy oh boy was Margaux a biter. I get concave nipples just thinking about it.
Top Tip: The fish Hook.
The fish hook method will be your best friend. Simply put you finger in their mouth to the side and pull their cheek back to free your nipples.
Other drawbacks are if you’re away and need to express.
I remember I went away overnight for my friend's 30th and was sitting in a bar with my wearable pump expressing away. My heart ached as I watched that liquid gold slip down the sink.
Overall Thoughts.
Ok, there are several negatives. But wow, there were positives.
I am so glad I chose to breastfeed, and other breastfeeding mums are SO supportive. I think we all just understand the struggle other mothers are going through and we want them to be able to succeed, so we are always on hand to offer any tips and tricks.
Exclusively breastfeeding Margaux for 11 months is, without a doubt, one of my biggest achievements in life. That should be able to go on a CV because damn does it show dedication and commitment.
Final Feed
So I fed Margaux one last time, holding onto every second of it. I soaked in the weight of her in my arms, the way she played with my necklace, the sound of her breathing. I memorised it all, because I knew it wouldn’t happen again.
And when it was over, I cried. Not because I wasn’t ready, but because I was. And it felt sad that she didn’t know, she didn’t know that was the last feed, and I feel a little guilty about that.
It still feels a bit like a goodbye. Not just to the breastfeeding itself, but to a version of me that lived only in this season. The me that fed her around the clock. The me that doubted she could do it. The me who did. And that version of me will never exist again.
Oh, and my farewell gift for all my hard work, my ode from breastfeeding…
a final bout of mastitis.

I thought since I slowly dropped feeds, I would be fine and wouldn’t have to deal with engorged breasts, and I never but instead something arguably worse. But nothing a dose of antibiotics couldn’t sort out.
To all the mums out there who are breastfeeding you are genuinely doing something so extraordinary. You may not feel the magic every day, but know that there is magic in what you are doing, and one day you will yearn for these quiet, alone moments.
A quick note before I finish…
Sometimes I feel a bit weird shouting about how amazing breastfeeding has been for me, like I’m somehow shaming bottle-fed babies or the mums who didn’t or couldn’t breastfeed.
That’s never my intention. I will always, always be team fed is best. My older two were bottle-fed, and they are just as perfect as Margaux (besides their attitude problems, but thats more an age related problem).
But having now fully experienced both sides, I can honestly say that there is just a different kind of demand that comes with breastfeeding.
Your body becomes their full-time food source. Every single feed relies on you, so it's not just a case of looking after the baby; you’ve got to look after yourself too, to keep your supply going.
So, this isn’t about saying one way is better. It’s just me taking a moment to celebrate what breastfeeding requires of us, what it gives us, and how it’s shaped this particular season of motherhood.
That doesn’t take away from any other mum’s journey, it just honours mine.
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