Experience vs Expectations of breastfeeding - Sydney Family Photographer

Can we take a moment to talk about breastfeeding? Because, you know, it’s the topic of the week. If you didn’t already have a baby, you probably wouldn’t think it but breastfeeding is hard! Most new mothers I speak to will all say the same thing “I didn’t realise how hard it would be, or how much it would hurt.”

When I was pregnant with Arlo I had an expectation that he would be born and, bam, milk on tap whenever he wanted. At the time, my biggest fear was having to feed him in public because as I may have mentioned before… never nude over here 🙋🏻‍♀️ What I didn’t expect for a single minute is that I wouldn’t be able to do it. I didn’t expect to be bare chested in front of every single LC in Sydney while they watched and helped me feed - analysing my technique, my breast tissue and speed of let down.

What else I didn’t expect is that after all the work I’d put in - the stress, the pumping, the triple feeding, the obsessing if he was getting enough - I’d have no control over getting this little human to drink and he would decide at just 7 weeks that he didn’t want it anymore. He would scream at the sight of a boob coming in his direction.

I didn’t expect that my breastfeeding journey would be mostly me tied to a pump for 7 odd months to try and give my boy “liquid gold”. And the biggest thing I didn’t expect out of all of it was how much it would effect me. I’ve got a general, “oh it ain’t no thang” attitude and if something does usually affect me I have a big ol’ shout to the people nearest and dearest and then I move on. But it did affect me… for 3.5 years and I didn’t even realise how much until Bowie was born and all of those expectations of naive, pre-babies, Stef came flooding back. I have boobs therefore I can. But again, I could not.

Instantly I started thinking what is wrong with me, why can’t I do this? I’m a failure. They said the second baby would be different but it’s all happening again. He’s losing too much weight… bring out the scales. It is definitely was not that idyllic impression I had of breastfeeding many moons ago. Nurturing your baby in a way that only you can, those intimate moments, gently stroking your baby’s head, ears, shoulders, feet as they drink till absolute satisfaction.

I had screaming babies beating my chest with their fists, sucking and crying because they couldn’t get enough? Couldn’t get it fast enough? Spluttering because it was coming too fast? My precious bonding time was spent scouring the internet on my phone for advice, anything new and ground breaking that may explain why my babies were never satisfied. Why they were never milk drunk. And yet, a part of me thinks… maybe I’ll be able to feed the next one.

This time around I was able to handle it a lot better mentally. Don’t get me wrong it was still hard but I know that I read everything I could and I did everything I could and maybe my body just wasn’t meant to be able to do this one thing. I have much less motivation to pump this time around. My boy is 5 months and my supply is almost done for, I’m only pumping once a day and often I forget to. So my journey will be coming to an end very, very soon. I’m a little sad, this is more than likely my last kid and this is it. I’m still holding out hope that by some miracle he’ll just decide to latch one day. But, he’s healthy, he’s happy and that’s all that matters. Breastfed or not they’re all going to eat their food off the floor one day.

This is my experience with breastfeeding and everyone’s is different but if you’re going through something similar know that you’re probably not alone. If you see someone feeding their baby just know that they’ve probably had a rough journey to get there too. Nothing is as simple as it seems and at the end of the day the only thing that matters is if you’d got a happy and healthy baby that is absolutely loved.