Tonight my girls had their usual bath — but this one was different. I poured in the last of my frozen breastmilk, well past its drinkable date, as a small ritual of goodbye. We’re deep in the weaning process, and though I’m ready to move on, letting go has been surprisingly tender. This is a story about grief, gratitude, and the quiet goodbyes of motherhood — and why we need more support for the endings, not just the beginnings.

As a late-diagnosed AuDHD mum, I often feel out of place — except when I’m with a postpartum mother. In that quiet space, my sensitivity becomes my strength, helping new mums feel truly seen, held, and nourished