A mother’s deeply emotional path to weaning, guided by the Qur’an

Dear reader,

Whether you’re a mother, a future parent, or simply someone walking a path of spiritual growth, this story is for you. It’s about obedience to Allah. About the quiet pain of change. And about the deep bond between a mother and her child… tested through love and submission.

Read, reflect, and maybe even cry with me.

Preparing for the Final Days

Right now, my son and I are going through a deeply emotional and spiritually testing phase. In less than two weeks, he will turn two years old and with that, I have to wean him.

Why? Because Allah ﷻ has clearly set a time limit for breastfeeding in the Qur’an. Whether the child is a boy or a girl, the command is the same.

Allah says in Surah Luqman (31:14):

“And We have enjoined upon man [care] for his parents. His mother carried him, [increasing her] in weakness upon weakness, and his weaning is in two years…”

And in Surah Al-Baqarah (2:233):

“Mothers may breastfeed their children two complete years for whoever wishes to complete the nursing [period].”

Notice how there’s no difference between boys and girls here. The guidance is universal.
Honestly, I only came to know about this clear Qur’anic teaching recently. Growing up, I had always heard something else. In our culture, there are so many odd myths surrounding weaning things like: “girls can nurse until 2.5,” “boys until 2,” or even “up to 3 years is okay!”

Most people I’d say around 90% don’t even know what the Qur’an actually says on this matter. And among those who do, many still don’t treat it as seriously as they should.

The Pressure from Society

When a mother tries to wean her child around the two-year mark and the baby cries, she’s immediately judged:
“How cruel! He’s just a baby. What does he understand? Let him nurse a little longer!”

Because of this emotional pressure, I’ve seen many mothers continue breastfeeding until 3 or even 4 years.
SubhanAllah… how neglectful we can be of Allah’s clear command.
Allahummaghfirli, O Allah, forgive me.

My Intentional Decision

I had been thinking about weaning for the past six months. But honestly, nothing could prepare me for how it would actually feel.

I read articles. I heard stories. But only now being in this moment do I truly understand.

The most common method I’ve seen is putting something bitter on the breast to discourage the child. But that rarely works. The child gets surprised at first but then quickly realizes it’s just a trick and goes right back to breastfeeding.

More aware and intentional mothers take a gentler approach: they start talking to the child early, preparing them lovingly:
“You’re growing up now! Soon you won’t have mommy’s milk but I’ll make yummy food for you instead!”

I loved that approach. So for the last couple of months, I’ve been softly telling my son:
“Abbuji, you’ve become a big boy now. You won’t be having milk for much longer.”

I don’t know how much he really understood, but I know he listened and I believe, in his little way, he was trying to understand.

When August Arrived

Now his birthday month — August — is here. I can’t delay any longer.

One way or another, I have to stop. Because I am determined not to go beyond the two-year limit that Allah has mentioned.

This small personal sacrifice is nothing compared to obeying the words of our Lord.

But still… my heart trembles.
My little one absolutely loves nursing. That’s what scared me the most.
He doesn’t fall asleep without it. The moment I lie down on the bed, he rushes to nurse. Even hearing the word “milk” excites him.

Seeking Support

Around this time, I met a lovely sister in faith. She shared her weaning journey and gently told me:
“You need to be strong. No matter how much he cries, don’t give in.”

Her husband had been very supportive walking with the baby, rocking him to sleep, helping her stay strong through the process.

I knew I wouldn’t get that kind of support from my husband he works away from home and doesn’t live with us right now.

So I made the decision to visit my parents. I hoped my mom, dad, and younger sister could help even a little.

Day 1: The First Big Step

With a deep breath and full tawakkul (trust in Allah), I made the decision:
No more milk from today.

That sentence alone brought tears to my eyes. Looking at my son’s face… it hurt so deeply.

That morning, around 10am, I nursed him one last time. He fell asleep afterwards.

He asked for it a few more times during the day, but I kept gently distracting him giving him full attention, playing with him, holding him close.

But by evening, the real struggle began.

He wanted to sleep but couldn’t without nursing. He was so drowsy, yet he kept resisting sleep.

My dad and sister tried to rock him to sleep. He refused.

I made his favorite pasta and alhamdulillah, he fed himself happily. But he still wouldn’t sleep.

Finally, my dad held him and walked around and then came the real crying. Loud, hard, heartbreaking.

I stayed away at first, thinking maybe he’d cry himself to sleep. But the intensity of his sobs broke me.

I rushed to him. He clung to me with all his strength, still crying hard. I held him, walked with him, whispered to him.

And then… I began to cry too.

“Ya Allah,” I whispered through tears, “please make this easy. We’re doing this only for You. Otherwise, how could I bear to watch him in pain like this?”

Eventually, he fell asleep in my arms but clung to me so tightly, even in his sleep. I couldn’t lay him down.

Each time I tried, he woke up crying again. So I kept holding him. Rocking. Walking. Comforting.
Until finally he fell into deep sleep.

Day 2: A Bit of Light

Despite sleeping so late, he woke up very early even before Fajr.

Usually, I’d nurse him and he’d go back to sleep. But now, that wasn’t possible.

I held him. We walked around together. After Fajr, I gave him his favorite pasta again. We played.

I didn’t even lie down for a minute that day I didn’t want him to associate the bed with breastfeeding.

In the afternoon, I rocked him to sleep again. Each time I looked at his little face, my heart ached.

I wasn’t sure how much he understood. But I did feel he needed my full presence even more than usual.
And I gave it, wholeheartedly.

That night, I rocked him to sleep again.

After Fajr, he woke up and cried. I picked him up, told him stories, walked with him. Eventually, he calmed down.

Present Moment: Still Growing

Now it’s Day 2 of our weaning journey.

Earlier today, I took him to the park. He ran around joyfully, playing and laughing.
On the way home, he fell asleep in my arms.

Now he’s sleeping peacefully and I’m here, writing this.

Reflections from the Heart

It’s only been two days. I don’t know how long it will take for him to fully let go.

I feel so much love and sympathy for him this little soul trying to adjust.

Motherhood is strangely beautiful and terrifying all at once.
Each moment teaches me something new.

Just as he’s growing…
I’m growing, too.

The greatest gift I’ve gained so far?
My taqwa (God-consciousness) and tawakkul (trust in Allah) have grown in ways I never imagined.
Alhamdulillah.

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