What No One Told Me About Breastfeeding: My Rawest Truths
I wish someone had told me these things before I sat in that chair, baby in arms, heart pounding, milk not coming…
1. It’s not always “natural” — and that doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong.
Everyone said breastfeeding would come instinctively. That my baby would just “know” what to do. But in reality, she didn’t latch. I bled. I cried. I Googled in the dark, one hand holding her, the other desperately typing “why is breastfeeding so painful?” I felt like my body had betrayed me. It took weeks, shields, help, tears, and still I felt like I was failing.
2. The pressure to “just keep trying” can feel like torture.
Every time I thought about switching to formula, the guilt hit me like a wave. “Breast is best,” they said. “It’s worth it.” I didn’t feel like I mattered — just the milk. No one checked how I was doing. I sobbed quietly during every feed, counting down the minutes until it was over.
3. Cluster feeding stole my sleep — and my sanity.
No one warned me how intense cluster feeding would be. Hours and hours. Days blurred together. I was afraid to put her down. I held in my pee. I didn’t eat. My husband worked long hours. I was completely alone — just me and her and the rising panic that I was disappearing.
4. I felt resentment… and then shame.
I didn’t just feel tired. I felt trapped. And then I hated myself for it. How could I resent something I wanted so badly? How could I feel dread when she cried to eat? I imagined moms smiling sweetly as they nursed. Why didn’t I feel that way? Was I broken?
5. No one told me about the rage.
Yes, rage. When she screamed and wouldn’t latch. When my nipples cracked again. When my body wasn’t mine anymore. I clenched my jaw and gritted my teeth and then cried because I thought I was a monster. But it turns out — I wasn’t alone. It’s called “breastfeeding aversion.” And it’s real.
6. I was scared to ask for help.
I thought asking meant I wasn’t strong enough. Everyone seemed to think I had it together. I smiled in pictures. I said, “We’re doing great!” But inside, I was crumbling. I needed someone to say, “Hey — you don’t have to do this alone.”
7. The silence around it made it worse.
People talked about sleep, about bottles, about baby gear. But no one talked about how breastfeeding can make you feel like a hostage to your own body. I needed honesty. I needed this post.
If you’re in it — I see you. I was you.
You are not weak. You are not alone. And there is no shame in needing support. You can breastfeed, combo feed, bottle feed — and still be the best mom your baby could ever have.
Want the exact words I needed to hear during my hardest feeding days?
Grab the guide that turned my chaos into calm.
It’s not just tips — it’s powerful hope for you!