My Ups & Downs Of Breastfeeding

For my second post during World Breastfeeding Week, I decided to share some realness about my personal breastfeeding journey. I'm in an interesting frame of mind at the moment, as I celebrated Breastfeeding Week by placing my order for the last breast pump I'll ever need.

Before I had my first baby, it was a given that I would breastfeed. I was going to be a stay-at-home parent and of course I had read all the things and seen all the memes and watched all the viral videos celebrating the unique and wonderful thing that is breastfeeding. While I've found comfort and empowerment in science and an evidence-based mindset, I have always been a little bit "crunchy." I love nature and I love having a mindful relationship with the world around me. So it was easy for me to romanticize what breastfeeding would be like. To relate to the images of women breastfeeding their babies in fields of flowers.

The truth of my experience was pretty different. And not because I couldn't breastfeed. I consider myself very lucky to be able to produce enough milk and to have the support and living situation that enable me to feed my babies. What I did not expect, was to discover I did not LIKE breastfeeding. I did not enjoy having to pause my life every couple of hours to sit on the couch and bounce a fussy baby between my boobs. I resented that I was the only one who could feed my child, especially with my first who adamantly refused to accept bottles of pumped milk. I was annoyed that after 9 months of pregnancy, I was still limited in my consumption of alcohol, caffeine, medications, and foods... I had colicky babies who were not great sleepers which meant coffee and onions and cabbage weren't worth it.

While I worked hard to help my second baby more readily accept a bottle, I still found myself working against some obstacles. My frozen breast milk had very high lipase... it smelled sour and my son did not like it. If it wasn't freshly pumped, it was a no-go. Which, to be honest, was hardly better than not being able to feed a bottle at all. I had to pump all the time in between breastfeeding so I had enough "fresh" milk on hand. And perhaps because I wasn't exclusively breastfeeding, or perhaps because my Spectra power cord shot craps and I started using my old Medela one without noticing the voltage was lower, my supply struggled with my second. Before I knew it, I was pumping for 45 minutes to an hour several times a day just to generate a few meager ounces.

All of this is to say, basically, that I don't love breastfeeding. I think I'm more excited to be done with breastfeeding forever than I am to be done with pregnancy. I have had multiple opportunities to be in photo shoots celebrating breastfeeding and I've always opted out. However, I can't wait to get a photo of me burning my pumping bra into a pile of ashes.

While there are a lot of aspects of breastfeeding that I personally despise, I absolutely support and celebrate those who do it well and who enjoy it. It is not easy and one of the things I'm truly grateful for when it comes to my breastfeeding experience is that I can appropriately empathize with others.

Another thing I'm grateful for? The price tag. I know this point gets debated at times, but from my experience, breastfeeding saved me money. I've been fortunate to have insurance with all three babies that provided me a free breast pump. While I initially invested in some nursing tops, I ended up usually just wearing normal clothes and pulling my shirt up or down. My nursing pillow was a gift at my baby shower. I did spend some money on bottles, but I would have needed to do that regardless.

And lastly, while I generally view breastfeeding similarly to how I view shoving a snack cup full of cheez-its at my toddlers, I have to admit that there is a closeness I felt at times. I remember seeing a movie (I won't say which so as to avoid spoilers) in which a traumatized mother in a uniquely bad situation was still breastfeeding her 5 year old. Now, no judgement towards those who choose to do extended breastfeeding. That's a personal choice and none of my business. It's just not something I would choose to do, especially given that I don't particularly enjoy breastfeeding an infant. However, I remember empathizing with that mother in that movie. I remember thinking about how I could understand it as a way to have an intimate relationship (intimate, NOT romantic) with another human in an otherwise isolated and hopeless life. I remember being surprised I felt that way since most of the time breastfeeding was much more of a chore to get through for me, than a mental/spiritual experience. But there it was.

I'm sharing all this because, as with many aspects of modern parenting culture, I think breastfeeding falls into much more of a moderate grey area than we are generally exposed to. "Breastfeeding" mentions on social media seem to be divided between "Earth Mother Goddess" images of women with flowers in their hair & feeding their babies surrounded by serene natural landscapes, glowing infographics that portray breastfeeding as "magic" or a "miracle," or the flip side... Tragic posts from grieving mothers who accidentally "starved" their babies because of pressure to breastfeed, op-eds from people who view "breast is best" rhetoric as dangerous, and so on.

And I'm not vilifying or minimizing any of those experiences for others. I have close friends who looooooved breastfeeding. I have friends who want to be lactation consultants because their experiences were so moving and important to them. I have friends who genuinely feel spiritually moved by breastfeeding their children. And I'm also not denying that the risks of a "breast or nothing" mentality are very real. There does exist a culture where formula is treated as poison and that IS dangerous.

But if you are like me... Somewhere in a haze of "ok I'm doing it but I don't love it" then I want you to know that you are not alone. It is ok to not feel like a maternal wood nymph with the golden essence of life flowing into the mouth of your newborn. It's ok to eat french fries and take approved medications without worrying for the purity of your divine fluids. It's ok to go out with friends and drink more than a few beers, resulting in a bottle of formula for your baby later. I've found a way to accept my middle-ground stance in a culture of extremes and I hope you can too.