Our Breastfeeding Journey: The Hardest Thing I've Ever Done

Our breastfeeding journey was nothing like I imagined. From oversupply, oral ties and endless feeding sessions to breastfeeding aversion and ultimately weaning, this was one of the hardest and most emotional chapters of my motherhood journey

Breastfeeding was probably one of the things I felt most confident about before becoming a mum. I knew it could be difficult. I knew not everybody had an easy experience with it. But if I'm being completely honest, I thought it would mostly come down to whether my baby latched properly and whether I had enough milk.

Looking back now, I had absolutely no idea how much of my life would revolve around feeding another human. How much time I would spend thinking about feeding, worrying about feeding, planning my day around feeding, questioning whether she was getting enough and wondering whether I was doing something wrong.

I also didn't realise how emotionally attached I would become to breastfeeding.

The physical side gets talked about a lot. The cracked nipples, the cluster feeding, the exhaustion and sleep deprivation. But nobody really prepared me for the emotional side of it. The pressure you put on yourself. The guilt. The constant mental load. The feeling of being needed all the time. And somehow, at the very same time, the comfort and closeness of it too.

There were moments I loved breastfeeding deeply. Moments I felt incredibly proud of my body. Moments where feeding Bailey felt like the most natural thing in the world. There were also moments where I felt completely touched out, moments where I felt trapped and moments where I felt like my body wasn't really mine anymore.

And I think that's the part I wish more women talked about.

Not whether breastfeeding is good or bad. Not whether formula, pumping or combination feeding is better.

Just the reality that feeding a baby can become so much bigger than simply feeding a baby.

Our breastfeeding journey ended up being one of the hardest things I've ever done. Not because I didn't have enough milk. Not because I didn't want to do it. But because almost nothing about it went the way I expected it to.

If I'm being very honest, I was in total shock during those first few weeks postpartum. I just didn't expect breastfeeding to be this consuming. I don't know whether our journey was especially difficult because Bailey had oral restrictions, but I remember feeling every possible emotion during those early weeks. The constant worry about whether she was actually getting enough, the anxiety around weight gain and the fact that my daughter was basically feeding all day every day. It was next-level exhausting.

When she wasn't putting on enough weight in the second or third week, everything started to feel incredibly overwhelming. I mean, you're in this experience for the first time and you don't really know what you're doing. You just keep trying and hoping you're doing enough. But the pressure of making sure your baby is gaining weight is heavy.

I remember my midwife mentioning formula and I completely lost it. Not because I have anything against formula, but because I had already fought so hard to continue breastfeeding at that stage. I really wanted Bailey to have breastmilk for at least six months and I'm not someone who gives up easily.

Unfortunately, my midwife at the time wasn't very educated around oral restrictions and how to identify them. At the same time, I had a mad oversupply for the first three months. YES, you read that right. Which sounds completely ridiculous considering Bailey wasn't gaining enough weight properly.

The constant leaking, feeding, engorgement and genuinely not understanding what the hell was going on sent me into a spiral. I contemplated giving up every single day.

At around five weeks my midwife said we needed to do something because Bailey's digestion started acting up badly. We booked in a lactation consultant who came to do an oral assessment and if I'm being completely honest, that wasn't a great experience either. You already feel incredibly vulnerable as a new mum. You're exhausted, emotional, hormonal and trying so hard to do the right thing. She assessed Bailey and told us she had a lip tie and tongue tie.

Hello paying thousands of dollars to get that sorted.

We made a plan to try an elimination diet, cutting dairy, oats, different latching positions, osteopathy treatments and honestly anything else that might help. But it didn't really do much. Bailey actually got worse. Because she was swallowing so much air while feeding, her gut became really inflamed and she even had blood in her stool. Two days after the assessment we ended up in the ED because we were completely overwhelmed, scared and honestly felt helpless.

The paediatrician told us she was fine and suggested it might be a cow's milk allergy. But he also told us there was no tongue tie. Unfortunately there still seems to be a huge lack of education around oral ties. As clueless first-time parents, we trusted his assessment and held off doing the release for another few weeks.

Meanwhile I continued dealing with the oversupply, constant cluster feeding, engorgement and pain. It was hard every single day.

Around eight weeks postpartum I reached my limit and said we need to do something because she still wasn't getting better at feeding. So we made the decision to go ahead with the release. Before you can actually do the procedure, we had to see an osteopath multiple times before and after. Thankfully we found an incredible osteopath who specialised in myofascial work and she recommended a specialist in Brisbane.

At around eleven weeks we finally had the appointment. I was terrified if I'm being honest, especially after receiving so many conflicting opinions and spending weeks researching everything I possibly could. The doctor was incredible, but the experience itself was still really heavy for me.

Your baby gets strapped onto a table and the ties are released with a laser.

I actually had to leave the building because I broke down.

I would be lying if I said it was easy. Watching your baby experience pain for the first time is something else. It broke me. The whole time you're questioning yourself. Was this the right decision? Is she going to be okay? Did I just put my baby through this for nothing?

And don't even get me started on the stretches afterwards. Every few hours. Day and night. For six weeks. You're essentially putting your baby through discomfort over and over again and hoping you're doing the right thing. I definitely think our experience felt heavier because of the timing. Bailey had finally started sleeping longer stretches and suddenly we were waking her constantly again. I'm so grateful my husband did most of the stretches because I genuinely struggled to do them myself.

The first few days afterwards were definitely the hardest. You could tell she was sore and we relied heavily on Panadol. Within a couple of weeks things were improving and at our follow-up appointment everything was healing beautifully.

One thing I do need to mention though. After the procedure they put babies straight onto the boob.

For the first time in nearly three months, Bailey fed without me experiencing pain.

I cried.

I remember sitting there in complete disbelief. After nearly three months of pain, leaking, cluster feeding, appointments, conflicting advice and questioning myself constantly, she was suddenly feeding the way she should have been all along.

I don't think I'll ever forget that moment.

And at the same time, I felt angry.

Angry because all of this could have potentially been avoided if there was better education around oral restrictions. Angry because we had been told completely different things by different professionals. Angry because I spent months questioning myself when deep down I knew something wasn't right.

I think for a long time I grieved the breastfeeding experience I thought I was going to have.

To this day, I still feel quite sad about how hard this whole experience was. For months I felt like all I did was feed her. Between the oversupply, the pain, the constant appointments and trying to figure out what was actually wrong, breastfeeding completely consumed me.

There were a few decisions we made before Bailey was even born that genuinely helped me survive those months. One of them was combination feeding. I don't think I would have been able to continue breastfeeding if Bailey hadn't also taken a bottle. Because of my oversupply, we were able to give expressed breastmilk bottles in between feeds and those little breaks were lifesaving. Not just physically, but mentally too.

Even then, I still felt like all I did all day long was feed her.

But slowly things improved. The feeds became easier. The pain settled. The constant stress around weight gain disappeared. And for the first time since becoming a mum, I felt like I could breathe again.

We continued breastfeeding until around six months when I fell pregnant with baby number two. For the first eight weeks everything was fine. Then came breastfeeding aversion.

If you've never experienced it before, I honestly don't know how to explain how difficult it is. It deserves a whole blog post of its own because it became the next challenge in our feeding journey and one I wasn't prepared for at all.

Despite that, I continued breastfeeding with a combination of direct feeds and pumping. We also introduced a goat milk formula bottle for Bailey's dream feed, which allowed me to build a freezer stash so she could continue having breastmilk right up until her first birthday.

At ten months old, I made the decision to close this chapter. My body was naturally transitioning towards colostrum for her little sister and for the first time throughout our entire feeding journey, the decision felt right.

We had a beautiful final feed together. I felt ready. And so did she.

It wasn't the breastfeeding journey I imagined when I was pregnant. In many ways it was harder than I ever thought possible.

For a long time I focused on everything that went wrong. The pain, the stress, the appointments, the tears, the endless questioning and wondering whether I was doing enough.

But now, with a little distance from it all, I find myself looking at it differently.

I see the determination. I see how hard we fought for it. I see the lessons it taught me about motherhood, resilience and letting go of the idea that things have to look a certain way to be meaningful.

It wasn't the journey I wanted.

But it was ours.

And despite everything, I'm grateful we got our ending.

As I prepare to start this journey all over again with baby number two, I know I can't control how this next chapter unfolds. But I do carry something into it that I didn't have the first time around.

Experience.

And maybe that's where the hope is.

Not that this journey will be perfect, but that whatever happens, I know I'll make it through.

Because somehow, after the hardest thing I've ever done, I'm ready to do it all again.