If fed is best, why are new moms pressured to breastfeed?

A family walked into church and filed into a pew a few rows up from us. They caught my attention for a couple of reasons. The first was that they had five children. "Wow, five children is a lot," I thought. "I’m over here trying to manage two, and it’s extremely difficult sometimes."

The second reason was that I recognized the mother. She and her husband were in our “marriage prep class” (the class they make you take before getting married in the Catholic Church. It covers topics like careers, finances, children, conflict resolution, etc.), and she went to the same college as me and my husband.

So, I know she is the same age as us, got married around the same time as us, and had five children in the time we had two—four boys and the youngest a girl.

This woman pulled out what looked like a privacy cover for breastfeeding. I immediately told myself it must be a blanket for the youngest. But then she proceeded to drape it over her and started breastfeeding the little girl, much to the horror of my 15-year-old niece who was sitting next to me. Her face contorted into a disgusted twist and turn of her features.

I laughed, thinking one day she’ll feel differently. I was not grossed out or embarrassed like she was. I find beauty in all things being a mom. My first thought was actually a tinge of jealousy. How nice it must be to breastfeed so casually and effortlessly. This was not my experience. My second thought was about the age of the child she was breastfeeding. She looked to be around the age of my daughter, maybe a little younger. At least two years old, I guessed.

So, I wondered why she continued to put her body through the demands of breastfeeding. I know my thoughts are coming from a place where breastfeeding was the most difficult thing about having a baby. Pregnancy? No problem. Giving birth? Piece of cake. But breastfeeding? That was equivalent to moving Mount Everest for me.

My thoughts ran away from me. Why was she breastfeeding a toddler? Is it the connection that I was never able to experience? What does that feel like? I hear the bond created between mother and child during those feeding sessions is like no other. I will never know. 

Did she not want to stop because she didn’t want to lose that bonding time? Maybe she was having a hard time because this was her last child. I’m guessing with five children she was probably her last. I know I could be very wrong here.

Or was the child not willing to give it up? Did she feel bad taking something away from her baby and only girl?

Whatever the reason, a lot of emotions started to come over me. I was reliving the trials I had. It was so difficult for me and my babies. And it never ended up working out for us. I put the most pressure on myself than I had ever done for anything else in my life. I thought I had to make it work to be a good mother.

I went to numerous consultations with a lactation specialist to try to strategize and figure out what we could do. It got to the point where one specialist recommended I tape a breast pump tube over my shoulder and onto my boob. And then, (with the help of my husband, I’m assuming) push breast milk I’d pumped through the hose so when my son was trying to feed, he would taste the breast milk causing him to latch and feed vigorously.

I think about this now and laugh. She was 100% serious! But it was what I needed to snap back to reality. That was extremely burdensome and taxing to ask of a postpartum woman. Almost cruel. 

I hear the bond created between mother and child during those feeding sessions is like no other. I will never know. 

I started to wonder, why was I doing this? Why was I stressing out so bad? It was making life challenging and sad for me, my son, and my husband. Thankfully that outlandish request shed some light on my reality. After five weeks of absolute HELL, we started to formula-feed our son exclusively.

I went into things with my second child much more realistically. I was not going to put the same pressure on myself, and I knew my limitations.

I did not produce with my first. I speculate it’s because he wasn’t latching properly or feeding aggressively enough. But who knows because I was pumping every two hours, and that didn’t help.

When I was in the hospital after giving birth to my second, they sent the lactation specialist in. I hadn’t asked to see anyone, but there she appeared. 

She treated it like boot camp. I was dripping sweat as we went through different techniques and positions. The connection wasn’t being made, and she would give another order. Try this. Now move your hand there. Position the baby that way. Massage your breast. On and on and on.

Finally, I just wanted it to end so I told her I would try again later. I said, “If it didn’t work, I knew I could use formula.” She looked at me with the sternest look and said, “Formula?” 

“Yes,” I said. “I ended up using formula with my first when breastfeeding didn’t work out.” I figured she’d be sympathetic or something. But she looked straight at me, serious as can be and said, “Why am I even wasting my time with you?”

She turned around, used the hand sanitizer on the wall, and stormed out.

Who says that? To a woman who just had a baby hours earlier, no less? What is with the pressure and the unrealistic requests? Why are we being shamed into breastfeeding and running ourselves ragged trying? I didn’t sleep for three months after giving birth to my son. I’m still wondering why? During all the appointments and conversations, why had no one told me it’s OK to switch to formula if this isn’t working for us? Fed is best. Your baby will be healthy either way.

Reflecting on what happened, it reinforced the lack of person-centric care in hospitals and doctor offices. No one ever checked in with me to see how I was doing. No one asked if I felt pressure or stressed. No one offered me alternatives. Exclusively breastfeeding for the first six months of life was all I heard, over and over like a skipping CD. 

It’s OK to formula feed. It’s OK to breastfeed. It’s OK to do both. It’s OK to do it one way with one child and a different way for the next child. Please take into consideration what is best for you as the mother. And give yourself all the grace in the world. After all, you just created, grew, and birthed a human.