**First and foremost, fed is best. If you are struggling to produce enough milk for your baby, or for some reason breastfeeding simply doesn’t work for you, take a deep breath and repeat those words to yourself as you shake up that bottle – Fed.Is.Best.**
This is a pro-breastfeeding post. I feel like it’s important to say this is a pro-breastfeeding post because here’s the other thing this post is about:
I hate breastfeeding.
I am a veteran nursing mom; I breastfed both of my kids exclusively, and they nursed well past that one-year mark. I have hiked across the tops of castles while mid-feed, encouraged nervous new moms to use their covers only if it makes THEM more comfortable, and gently refused to use the bathroom to feed my baby instead of a comfortable couch in a mall. With twins on the way in August, my plan is to nurse as much as my body will allow me to safely do. But the truth is, I hate breastfeeding. It’s the things I am least excited about with new babies. I know that sounds harsh, but hear me out.
For some moms, nursing their new little babe is a warm, bonding experience. They find it empowering and therapeutic as they continue to nourish this tiny child they brought into this world. It is something that they love doing and mourn when the time comes to stop. It might have been a tough adjustment as everyone learned what to do, but eventually baby and mom settled in and everyone was filled with warm fuzzies and full tummies.
I am not that mom, and if you aren’t either (or maybe you have mixed feelings on it) that is okay, too. Here is the truth that not one single soul told me – if you don’t love breastfeeding, heck if you flat out hate it like I do, it doesn’t make your breastmilk any less nutritious, or your experience as a nursing mom any less valid. You don’t have to love it. There is nothing wrong with you, you aren’t doing it wrong. You just don’t like it and that is okay.
When my first baby was born, she instinctively knew what to do, and my body was ready to go with plenty of milk in easy demand. It felt awkward, but I thought those were just initial feelings of adjusting to something constantly wanting to suck on a weird part of my body. I was assured that eventually the oxytocin would flow and this would become something I enjoyed. So we continued on, I layered on the lanolin for the wicked rash I was developing, and my daughter grew and I grew… more resentful.
It was confusing as a new mom, how was this act of nursing my daughter making me slightly more hostile with each feeding? Everything was going relatively well, my baby had a good latch, and I was able to produce, but I struggled thinking that there was something wrong with me that made me not love this experience. I asked the La Leche League, I whined to the lactation coach I met with, I confided in the doctor at appointments that I just still hated breastfeeding. They all told me it takes time or that I must be doing something wrong, and also to put more lanolin on that unholy itchy rash that still wasn’t clearing up.
It wasn’t until I called a dear friend of mine and told her how I was feeling that I finally found solidarity – “Girl, I hated it, too!” WHAT! My friend had breastfed her young son and had plans to nurse the next one as well. I just assumed that she had enjoyed her experience, but in fact, she didn’t love it either. Breastfeeding instantaneously became easier. There is so much healing in a shared bond. I still didn’t enjoy it, but I no longer felt a burden of guilt or a tug of wondering if I was defective in some way.
After a couple of months of nursing, my mom reminded me that if I was still unhappy, there was nothing wrong with making up bottles and closing the door on this chapter. I seriously considered it, but here’s the thing. Breastmilk is free, it’s always there (for me), it provides valuable antibodies that formula simply can’t, and honestly, I am too lazy to wash bottles. However, after my conversation with my friend, the worry and doubt that I was doing it right became negligible factors. No, I didn’t love it, but the good outweighed the general dislike I had for it and so, for me, breastfeeding was the best choice at that time.
As I became more confident in myself, I talked more openly about my feelings on it and started to find other moms who shared my experience. They were moms who didn’t want to say out loud that they found nursing to be something that they loathed for fear that they’d come across as anti-breastfeeding, but also weren’t finding the bonding experience they anticipated. Just like anything else in life, what brings one person joy doesn’t necessarily do the same for someone else, so if your body is saying, “I hate this. This isn’t working for me.” know that is okay, and you aren’t alone.
My daughter was about six months old, and I had long since accepted that nursing wasn’t my favorite activity before I ever got my mystery rash cleared up. Each doctor and lactation consultant would look at it confused, give me a prescription for lanolin to be applied constantly, and, a time or two, an antibiotic. Nothing brought relief, and the brutal itching sensation caused me to draw blood daily from ripping at my skin even as I slept. Finally, on a whim, I Googled “What is lanolin?” It’s wax secreted by sheep, a wool derivative. I am highly allergic to wool, have been my whole life. Not one doctor or nurse or lactation consultant had ever mentioned a wool allergy as a possibility, and the day after I stopped using it, the itching was completely gone.
Just as no one had acknowledged that perhaps breastfeeding would never be something I just didn’t like, and once I discovered the magic elixir that was knowing I was not alone in disliking the act of breastfeeding, my guilt and fears had subsided. We are all different and what works for one person doesn’t necessarily work for someone else. So if breastfeeding works for you, nurse on. If it doesn’t, mix up a bottle. There are too many other real things to worry about in this journey of parenthood to let breastfeeding be the weight that brings you down.
