When my first nephew was born, I was pregnant and still nursing my toddler. I asked my husband what he thought about me breastfeeding our newborn nephew as a way of making him our “”. My husband thought it was a great idea.
Neither of us grew up with milk mothers, so it wasn’t exactly a cultural norm. But I’d come across this tradition when I studied Islamic jurisprudence in Jordan in my 20s, and have always remained fascinated by it. Also, I loved growing up in a family of six kids, but I knew I didn’t have the bandwidth to give birth to four more children. Having a milk son felt like a much more attainable way of “expanding” my family, the way one might as a godparent.
Technically, anyone can be a milk mother in Islam – not just family. All it takes is five feeds – breast or bottle are equally valid. A milk mother is defined as a woman who has nursed a baby within a period of two to two-and-a-half years – establishing a lifelong relationship. Their children are considered siblings and become permanently unmarriageable kin (mahram). My nephew being my milk son means that in everything else except for inheriting my wealth after I die, he’s considered my . For example, when my daughters are older, they don’t need to wear hijab in front of him, unlike their other male cousins.
Bringing up the topic of milk kinship with my brother and his wife was relatively straightforward. I have always been close to my brother. Together, we had gone on Hajj, the pilgrimage to Mecca, in our 20s – something that solidified our sibling bond in a way that few things can.
Still, there was a niggling doubt at the start. What if they said no? What if one of them reacted in shock? But not only did they say yes, they were both glad that I brought it up proactively. Turns out they were exhausted from caring for their newborn son and could use some help. After our chat, I arranged a trip from my current home in Malaysia back to Sydney with my toddler in tow, ready to nurse my newborn nephew.
I will always cherish my two-month-old nephew’s look of mild confusion as I nursed him for the first time
I will always cherish my two-month-old nephew’s look of mild confusion as I nursed him for the first time. Who are you? Why are you giving me milk? Mmm, milk. Okay, fine. Wait – I want my mum!
During my time in Sydney, I organised a convenient time in the afternoon with my sister-in-law and waited until her little boy was calm enough to nurse him. Since my sister-in-law had no issues with her milk supply, I didn’t need to supplement her baby’s feeds. After a few direct feeds, we mixed some of my breastmilk in his milk bottle to seal the “milk kinship” deal, so to speak.
On a practical level, if we had lived in Sydney, I would have happily offered to nurse my milk son more regularly and given my sister-in-law a chance to rest in the afternoons. Sadly, I had to go back to Malaysia after two weeks. The end of my nursing sessions with him also coincided with my own toddler’s final feed – on our flight home to Malaysia. I’m grateful she kept my milk supply going long enough for me to nurse my nephew, but I was relieved to no longer have to deal with .
The topic of milk motherhood doesn’t come up in everyday conversations. When I bring it up with my close friends in Malaysia, it’s usually when we speak about nursing or navigating cousin relationships as our kids get older. They tell me that it’s not a common practice in the city, but might still happen in parts of rural Malaysia.
I don’t think I’ve told any of my Australian friends about being a milk mother to my nephew. If they were to ask about it, I would explain it’s an enormous privilege. Allowing another mother to nurse your child takes a lot of trust, and I’m grateful for my sister-in-law’s enthusiastic permission. We’re more invested in each other’s children because of this special nursing bond.
Over the years, my milk son has grown to be a funny, sweet and bright little boy. I wish I could spend more time with him in person, and I hope that in the years to come, it’ll be easier and more affordable for us to visit one another. My children don’t know the details yet because they’re still little, but they know their cousin is special because they share a nursing bond.
The concept of being a milk mother might be unusual for many, but it wasn’t always like this. This tradition of milk motherhood has been going on for millennia now, in , including the northern Balkans and parts of Saharan Africa. In the Islamic tradition, the Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him) was nursed by his milk mother, Halimah, in the desert before returning to his mother, Aminah, in the city of Mecca. I am so grateful I had the opportunity to emulate this tradition with my nephew, and hope this will help my children feel closer to him in the years to come.
