The Slow Goodbye In Motherhood: Trusting God in the Letting Go And How Weaning Breastfeeding Helped Me in My Parenting

How did weaning breastfeeding teach me about letting go in parenting and holding onto my faith?

It's all related if you give me a minute to explain.

Motherhood is the long practice of letting go.

There are some seasons in motherhood that I have wanted to pass quickly, and then other seasons that I wish would slow down. But at the end of each season, the same thing is being asked of me as a mother. Let go... so they can grow.

I remember counting down the days until I could stop breastfeeding—until my body would feel like my own again, until I no longer had to plan my life around feeding schedules and naps and pumping parts.

And then one day… he stopped wanting breastmilk.

And somehow, it felt like he stopped wanting me.

I wasn’t ready.

I packed up my breast pump and quietly said goodbye to an era of my life, knowing—deep down—that this was the last time I would breastfeed a child. The final feeding came without warning. There were signs, of course. He latched for shorter stretches. He was easily distracted. He seemed eager for the world beyond my arms.

Still, I held tightly to that last feed, hoping it would linger—because breastfeeding was more than nourishment. It was connection. We had been connected long before he ever latched. From the moment of implantation to the umbilical cord that had bound us together, he was a part of me.

Even after the cord was cut and he was laid on my chest, he still needed me completely. I was his safety. His provision. His comfort. No one else could do what I could do for him—and while that responsibility was heavy at times, it was also one of the greatest privileges of my life.

Then he grew.

He needed more than milk. He needed chicken legs and snacks and adult-sized meals. Others could feed him now.

And while he still came back to me—to fall asleep in my arms, to see my face first when he woke—something was shifting. The way he looked at me with those wide eyes of adoration was a gift I didn’t realize I would someday grieve.

Slowly, he began to pull away.

Less interested in nursing.

More interested in food.

More interested in exploring.

More interested in other people.

He wanted to be picked up by others instead of curling into my lap. He wanted to move, to roam, to discover the world rather than sit still with me. And that awakening independence brought with it a grief I hadn’t expected.

Children are meant to explore their world.

They are meant to grow.

They are meant to become independent.

We want that for them.... don’t we?

And yet… we also want them to stay.

To listen.

To still need us.

To curl into our laps just a little longer.

(Did I mention he’s only fifteen months old?)

I know he still needs me. Of course he does. But I also know that how he needs me is already changing. My role is shifting—from being his source of everything to becoming his guide. It is time to say goodbye to this season and time to savor the sweetness and sourness of the next one.

Prayer is becoming more important in how I parent my son.

I pray that he will grow into a man who knows the difference between right and wrong. I pray that he will learn that the Bible is truth and that it will be his authority. I pray that God will help him be a protector and a shepherd to those around him.

And I pray that God will help me accept my rejection as part of his growth. I pray that God will help me let go of being everything for my son. Because how will my son grow if I hold on too tightly?

I just thought I would have him in my lap a little bit longer.

But motherhood has always been this way—

holding tightly,

loving deeply,

and slowly learning

how to let go.

Faith and Weaning: Trusting God with Letting Go

Maybe it isn't breastfeeding. Maybe it's dropping your kindergartner off at school, knowing that your mornings together are over. Maybe it's helping your college student move into his dorm room while you figure out how to plan meals for fewer people. Or maybe it's giving your daughter away at her wedding and knowing that she won't be home for every holiday. Or maybe it is sitting on the sidelines, feeling helpless as you watch your child destroy his or her life. Or maybe it is anticipating the needs of your adult child with special needs as your own body ages.

This motherhood job is hard. How can we love so deeply and then release them into a world that can hurt them? This job requires trusting in God to care for them in the long game. It requires us to actively wait by praying for them. And then it requires us to endure the motherhood ache, trusting that God knows what our children need even more than we do (especially when we can’t protect them anymore).

But mama, it’s going to be okay. When you know the Lord, you don’t have to hold tightly to their uncertain futures.

The reason we can let go is because there is someone else we need to hold onto more.

In John 15, Jesus talks about the connection between a vine and a branch. Without the connection, the branch is barren. Jesus says that He is the vine and we are the branches. If we want our children to bear fruit, then we need to be holding onto the vine rather than holding onto the fruit. Jesus calls this act of holding on as abiding.

“Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing…As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love.” ‭‭John‬ ‭15‬:‭4‬-‭5‬, ‭9‬ ‭ESV‬‬

We can let go of our worry over our children’s futures, their salvation, and their happiness- when we simply choose to cling to the vine instead. When we let the word of God transform us from within, we don’t have to worry about the fruit. The fruit can bloom during another season when we keep holding on to the vine.

It isn’t easy to do. It goes against our motherhood instincts to control the outcomes of our children and protect them from every hypothetical threat. A lecture, a grounding, a punishment seems like the natural parenting move to protect and guide. And this is important especially in the younger years. But as they get older, we get older too. Life teaches us to let go of control and give our lives to the One who sees and knows it all.

Letting go is how they grow. And maybe it’s how we also grow too.

Motherhood is a long slow good-bye. We say goodbye to the seasons of motherhood that don’t last. We say goodbye to our dreams for our children as they find their own dreams. We say goodbye because sometimes we don’t have another choice. And maybe, just maybe, we need to let go because for this season, love is letting go. And when we release our grip at last, we can find what truly grounds us. Even as one season ends, love does not.

A Prayer for Moms Letting Go by Praying Through John 15

Lord, help me let go, so my baby can grow.

“Abide in me, and I in you.

Lord, let me abide and hold onto you. I give you my mothering and all of my worries because I can’t fix it or control what happens on my own.

As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me.

Lord, I know you love my children, ________. Forgive me for trying to fix them on my own rather than coming to you first. You know what they need. You know the fruit I long to see in them.

I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing…

Lord, I can’t be a good mom without you helping me. I am a branch that is dependent on you, the vine. I want to hold onto my children, but the tighter grip has only driven them further away. Even if this is a season of pruning for both of us, help me to trust you.

As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love.

Lord, you loved me first. I can rest in your love and your desire for my good. I can hold onto your love that will not let me go.

In the name of the one

who understands my worries and my pain,

Jesus.

- Amen.

Check out the song, “Letting Go” from the album, Woven Motherhood: Songs of Hope for Moms now on Spotify, Apple Music, Amazon Music, IHeartRadio.

Letting Go Woven Motherhood

3:19

Letting Go

They said it would go fast

They said this wouldn’t last

I carried you beneath my heart

Now that season’s gone

I counted the days for freedom

For my body to feel like mine

But when you turned away

I wasn’t ready this time

Chorus

So I’m learning to let go

Of being everything you need

Trading milk for midnight prayers

And trusting God with what I can’t see

You don’t curl up like you used to

Gotta say goodbye somehow

Loving you is different now

And I’m learning how to let go

Before I saw your face

Every heartbeat,

Every move, woven in that sacred place

Where love already grew

I was your comfort, I was your shelter

Everything you’d ever need

But now you need others too

So Im gonna change with you

Chorus

So I’m learning to let go

Of being everything you need

Trading milk for midnight prayers

And trusting God with what I can’t see

You don’t curl up like you used to

Gotta say goodbye somehow

Loving you is different now

And I’m learning how to let go

I packed away the pieces of a chapter I hoped would stay

And said goodbye to a version of me that had slipped away

Final Chorus

So I’m learning to let go

With my hands still open wide

Placing what I love the most in God’s hands, not mine

You don’t need me like you used to

Gotta say goodbye somehow

Loving you is different now

And I’m learning how to let go

Do you need a way to commemorate this season of motherhood? I found Milk Couture when I was trying to capture God’s faithfulness to me through breastfeeding. Check out the beautiful custom-made jewelry from Cait Robertson.