She cried. I cried. And we scrolled endlessly through Google at the small hours of the morning trying to find a solution.
But, I wasn’t giving up.
Every health professional I had seen over the first few weeks of Madison’s life seemed to just expect me to be breastfeeding her. I booked an appointment with a lactation consultant. I constantly cried out for help from midwives.
I sat and squirmed in pain while my baby latched on incorrectly (if you know, you know…), and when I wasn’t doing this, I was sitting in my living room for hours with both of my boobs attached to a hospital-grade breast pump, trying to get enough milk out of myself to fill a full bottle for Madison’s next feed. I wont go into how soul-destroying it was when she vomited it all up on the carpet anyway – that’s a story for another day…
I had been given so much professional advice, I’d had midwives manually hold my child against my body trying to get her to feed and I tried every last thing I could think of, but it still wasn’t enough.
I felt like a failure – not only as a mum, but as a woman. I was struggling mentally, and I knew it. I knew the toll that trying (and failing) to breastfeed was taking on my mental health, and so did those around me.
While family members and friends would encourage me to give up trying for my own sanity, I still felt the guilt and determination to urge me to keep trying every time I went to a midwife appointment or check-up. ‘Breast is best’ was the attitude of pretty much every health professional I’d see.
Turns out, I wasn’t alone in my struggles – although I felt it, both physically and mentally.
According to a study* 81% of mothers try to breastfeed straight away after birth. However, this first stage of breastfeeding tends to be the most challenging and after just one week, breastfeeding rates drop to 69%, and down again to 55% at six weeks. 90% of these women reportedly said that they didn’t want to stop.
As a consequence, research also shows that 7%** of women experience trauma symptoms following a negative breastfeeding experience. Breastfeeding trauma can feel like grief, guilt, failure and feelings of inadequacy. Trust me, you are not alone.
Make no mistake - I am not here to tell anyone how to feed their baby. I am not anti-breastfeeding or pro-formula feeding. I think simply just being able to keep your baby healthy and thriving is amazing, no matter how you achieve it.
I am pro choice. And what I do know, is that when you’re on the brink of a mental breakdown because you can’t breastfeed your child and have tried everything in your power to – it’s OK to stop. It’s OK to give in. It’s OK to think that your own mental health is just as important as the health requirements of your baby.
Yes, your baby may come first. But without you, your baby is lost. We, as women, need to be kinder to ourselves.
We need to prioritise our mental health. And we need to know it’s OK to say we’ve reached the end of our tether when it comes to breastfeeding.
I’ve watched my children even at an extremely young age pick up on and mirror my emotions and stress, and it’s so true what they say – a happy mum, is a happy baby.
*McAndrew, F., et al (2012). ‘Infant Feeding Survey 2010’ Leeds Health and Social Care Information Centre
**Brown, A. (2019) Why Breastfeeding Grief and Trauma Matter. Pinter & Martin.