When Breastfeeding Didn’t Go the Way I Hoped It Would

I had my little one in September. She’s become the joy of my life in ways I can’t even explain. But one of the hardest parts of my postpartum journey was breastfeeding. More specifically, my low supply.

As a therapist, I’m someone who helps people explore their emotions, challenge their thoughts, and move toward self-compassion. But in those early weeks, I couldn’t do any of that for myself. I was overwhelmed. I was in survival mode. And I was determined to see my breastfeeding journey through.

I walked into breastfeeding knowing it would probably be a battle. My mom struggled with it too. But I was ready. I told myself I’d do anything to make it work. And yet, despite all my effort, it didn’t. I couldn’t make it work.

Each time I had to supplement with formula, I felt defeated. Angry. Frustrated with my body for not doing what it was “supposed” to do. I started to hate myself. I started to feel like a failure. I needed to prove to myself that I could do it. But somewhere along the way, I had to ask: to what end?

Part of what drove me was that my daughter had a spit-up issue with formula but not with breastmilk, so of course I wanted to make it work even more. But no matter how hard I tried, nothing seemed to be working in my favour.

Eventually, I had to bring this into therapy. I needed to understand where all this pressure was coming from. And what I realized is that it wasn’t really about being a mom. It was the old, familiar voice that has always told me I wasn’t enough. That I had to conquer every challenge. And this time, I couldn’t.

There Were So Many Barriers

Looking back now, I wish I had understood how many things were working against me, and how not breastfeeding successfully wasn’t a reflection of my worth.

I didn’t get to take a breastfeeding class during my pregnancy because I was diagnosed with cholestasis and was constantly itchy and stressed. I couldn’t sit through a class and absorb anything.

My daughter had a lip tie, which meant she couldn’t latch well.

I was under a lot of emotional stress, dealing with family issues that impacted me more than I realized.

I didn’t ask to see a lactation consultant in the hospital. I thought about it, but I just wanted to go home and forget the hospital experience.

My daughter was a contact napper, which made pumping almost impossible.

I developed a fever and migraines for four days in week five, and by week six, I had broken out into hives and had to go on steroids.

There were so many obstacles. It felt like a never-ending uphill battle. I was trying everything—Moringa supplements, a lactation consultant, considering medication (which I was too scared to try because of the hives). I was exhausted.

Combo Feeding Was Supposed to Be the Middle Ground, But It Was Still Hard

I continued on with combo feeding for four months, but even that was emotionally draining. I never knew if my baby was hungry or full. Was she fussy because she needed more milk, or she just had a burp? I was constantly second-guessing myself.

The truth is, most feeds needed a top-up. But that first morning feed, when I was able to fully breastfeed her, was my favourite part of the day. I felt so connected to her. So calm. So proud. But by the next feed, I was right back in the spiral of doubt and guilt.

I kept going until I couldn’t anymore. My mind needed a break. My baby needed a full feed. And I realized I could give her that. I started nursing only in the mornings, and eventually, I became okay with that.

The Grief of Watching Others Breastfeed

It’s also hard to see others breastfeed when your journey didn’t go how you wanted. There’s a quiet grief that sits in your chest when you see another mom nursing her baby with ease. It’s envy, it’s longing, it’s that thought of, “I wish that were me.”

One of the most healing conversations I had was with a friend—another low-supply mom—who simply said, “There are a lot of women who can’t do it. And that’s okay.” Hearing it from someone who had lived it helped me let go of the dream I had. I needed someone to say it was okay to stop.

What I’ve Learned

When I look back, I wish I had taken better care of my mental health during that time. I wish I had given myself just one moment, in between the sleepless nights, the bottles, the frustration, to ask myself a few simple questions:

What do I need right now?
Am I being kind to myself?
What would I say to a friend going through this?

I wish I had seen that I was trying my best, with so much love and so much effort. And that counts for everything. Feeding your baby is an act of love, no matter what it looks like. Whether it’s breastfeeding, formula, or a mix of both, you are enough. And your bond with your baby is built in countless moments beyond the bottle or breast.