Holy. Cow.

A visual of cow is what was on my brain most of my breastfeeding journey. That is what I felt like most of the time. Dairy farm. Milk-maker. Only useful for the liquid leaking out of my body.

The first thing the nurse did when she set my just-born baby on my chest was mention we should try to latch him and start hand expressing colostrum. Hand what? Is that the name of a car wash special? Is colostrum milk? My mind still processing what my body had just endured, I went along with whatever my caretakers prescribed.

I was lost. I did not have many family members who breastfed and I was not exposed to it. I had no idea what to expect. I figured I could give it a shot. Why would I pay for formula if I didn’t have to, right?

I did not expect the struggle, the pain, the shaming, the exhaustion, the HUNGER - talk about a new level of hangry- or the dreaded biting. Yikes. I never thought I would need to know what a nipple shield was or find myself constantly be hooked up to a machine that squeezed every drop of liquid from my already tired body. What the heck is a haaka? What do I use lanolin for? I was overwhelmed by hormones, people, family and doctors telling me everything I must do to feed my baby. I had friend who was pregnant with her 4th baby at the same time as me tell me, “Fed is best!” And I decided to stick with that.

Or, that I would cry more than not, never knowing if he ate enough. Why was he spitting up so much? It must be acid reflux. Maybe not? Does he have colic? Is he having sensitivities from what I am eating passing through my milk? Am I the reason he is suffering? Why are people looking at me? Is this the right thing to do? Why do people question my decision and ask “how long are you going to breastfeed?” every time they see me feed my baby? Will I pump enough milk to leave the house by myself? The list grew daily.

Breastfeeding is not for the weak.

There was a woman outside of the hospital waiting for her car the day we checked out after I delivered Baylor. We were loading him into our car for the first ride home. She yelled over to me, “Are you breastfeeding?” I looked over and said something along the lines of “Yeah, uh, well, we are trying.” “Oh girl stick with it! Breastfeeding is the best! You got this!” she insisted. Her spunk and hopeful tone excited me for our journey, but I knew it wasn’t going to be easy.

But I am sure glad I listened to her. You must be confused at this point. Hear me out.

All of those hardships I did not expect. However, I also did not expect the sweet connection and closeness only you will feel with your baby in those moments. I didn’t expect to feel like a hero for supplying my baby with the only food he needed those first few months. I didn’t know how precious the time was that we got to spend together every few hours, guaranteed. That I secretly loved being the only one who could feed him at times, but also yearned for a full nights sleep or to be able to have some alone time.

I didn’t expect to not want to stop - to be crying like I had my heart broken in the middle of the night when he suddenly went on a nursing strike at only 10 months old.

I didn’t expect to make it as long as I did, or to feel so proud. When you think about how your body was made to SUSTAIN LIFE not only for the almost 10 months they are incubated inside your body, but also the first months or years they are on the outside. Wow. It truly is an incredible thing.

If you are breastfeeding, YOU GO MAMA! If you aren’t breastfeeding by choice or not YOU GO MAMA! You are feeding your baby the best way you can and you should still be PROUD! Under any circumstance, fed is best. Fed. Is. Best. That is all.

Do I believe breastfeeding should be normalized and stop being sexualized by our society? Absolutely, but thats for another post.

Do I believe that bottle feeding or formula feeding should be normalized? One hundred percent. Pumping? Holy moly! I bow down to moms who pump and exclusively pump. You are all angels sent from above.

No matter how you are caring for your baby and their nutritional needs, you are thriving. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. You are a milk producing or nursing or pumping or bottle feeding or formula feeding QUEEN! Embrace your abilities and instincts.

You are strong. 💪 Now go feed that baby any way you choose! 😘