When I became a mom for the first time, I was stepping into unknown territory. Not just with parenting–with breastfeeding, too. No one in my family breastfed. There were no passed-down tips, no aunts to call, no shared stories of sore nipples or cluster feeds.
I was starting from scratch, and I felt it deeply. I knew I wanted to try breastfeeding, but I was unaware that my Type A personality was going to cling to the idea even through endless darkness. I thought if I just worked hard enough, if I read the right articles or tried the right techniques, it would eventually click. But it didn’t. At least . . . not right away.
The Early Struggles No One Warned Me About
With my firstborn, everything about breastfeeding felt like a battle I was not equipped to fight. She was born and quickly transferred to a special care unit where they introduced sugar water and formula due to her circumstances. When I finally got to try and breastfeed, she struggled to latch; I struggled to find the mindset to keep trying. I felt like I was failing at something that was supposed to be natural.
Everyone would say, “Breastfeeding is intuitive,” but it felt anything but instinctive for me. I asked everyone I came across for help. The pediatrician, my in-laws, even scheduled an appointment one hour away with a lactation consultant. But no one could help me consistently through the journey. I felt isolated, overwhelmed, and like I was quietly unraveling in a moment when I was supposed to be soaking in the magic of new motherhood.
Finding Support in the Most Unexpected Place
It wasn’t until I found quiet, steady coaching from a friend that I started to see a way forward. She wasn’t just a friend offering advice; she walked with me every day through the haze of sore days and long nights. When I texted her in the middle of the night saying that I wanted to give up, she offered a calm understanding and supported me either way.
The irony? My friend had never breastfed either. But her unwavering support and empathy became the foundation of her own lactation consultant business, built from those roots of love and sisterhood. I am forever grateful for her allowing me to text her constantly and for her unwavering support. She became a steady voice when mine was shaky; a light in the chaos.
Pushing Through Pain + Pressure
With my firstborn, breastfeeding was painful in every sense. She had severe dairy and egg intolerances, and I removed both from my diet not just to help her, but to prove to myself that I could do this. I wanted to make it work so badly. And I did. But it came at a cost.
I lost so much weight physically and mentally that I barely recognized myself. Everyone commented on my weight and recommended giving up breastfeeding to support my own health, but I could not walk away after all of the hard work I had put into my breastfeeding journey. I made it to 12 months, a milestone I thought would feel victorious. But instead, I felt depleted and fragile. It wasn’t the kind of win I had imagined. The journey had taken more from me than I ever expected, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever want to try again.
A Second (+ Third) Chance: Doing Things Differently
When I became a mom again, I told myself this time would be different. My next two children were supposed to be my comeback stories. I had done the hard part, learned how to breastfeed, and I thought I’d finally get to enjoy it.
But once again, we faced challenges early on. Latching didn’t come naturally. Frustration crept in. I found myself wondering, why is this still hard? The boys’ journeys were equally difficult, and the first two months of breastfeeding the both of them were exhausting, painful, and scream-worthy. Some days, it felt like I was starting all over again. But the difference was: this time, I wasn’t navigating it alone.
I knew more. I had better tools. I had my friend still in my corner. And I had something else: a deep determination to do it differently, from a place of peace.
Healing Through Breastfeeding
I breastfed one son until he was 18 months old. My third baby, I breastfed all the way to 26 months. And those months weren’t just about feeding. They were about healing. Reclaiming. They were proof that things could feel hard and good at the same time.
I’ve learned that breastfeeding isn’t just about milk. It’s about community, mindset, and grace. It’s about letting go of perfection and finding strength in the effort. It’s about asking for help, even if it means reaching out to strangers, and letting someone walk beside you until you’re strong enough to do it on your own. It’s about rewriting the story and giving yourself permission to grow through what you go through.
To Every Mama, I See You
So today, during World Breastfeeding Week, I celebrate every mama. Whether you breastfed for two days or two years. Whether you bottle-fed with love. Whether you struggled in silence or shouted your triumphs from the rooftops.
I see you. I was you. I am you. And I’m forever grateful for the women who helped me find my way.
You go, mama