Little Sunday Story Time Peach by Ayana

My Breastfeeding Journey 

  • My journey began 9 years ago when my eldest Daughter  Zakyrah was born. I was determined to breastfeed her and I was able to do so successfully. This was around the same time that Similac had a major recall on powder formula and my moms co- workers 4 month old died from exposure to tainted formula. Scary! I thanked myself everyday for sticking to my guns because breastfeeding is far from “cupcakes and rainbows”. There were nights I cried, there were days I was afraid to nurse in public because the side eyes and hard stares were overwhelming. I supplemented then, especially after the guy stared down my nursing cover on a public bus. I felt ashamed but I couldn’t deprive my hungry baby because in the end of it all her being fed was essential. Over the course of 14 months I found my groove but then I started to despise breastfeeding and my baby started to hate it too. She would spit out the milk and ask for food instead which made me that much more upset. But then it all made sense, I was pregnant again. Zakyrah ended up self weaning shortly after and I was actually grateful because I was so sick that pregnancy. Zaliyah was born In September of 2011 and I was back in the game. This time I was experienced and I knew what worked and what didn’t. Or did I? Zaliyah hated bottles, she never ever drank from one EVER! When she was around  7 months old, I returned to working full time.I was terrified of having to almost force my child to take a bottle.And that’s when I discovered my issues with pumping. I would pump for an hour and barely see half an ounce. I tried different pumps and still very little results. Back then I didn’t know about supplements and things I just tried the old fashion stuff like staying hydrated and pumping while baby nursed. Very little worked but believe it or not Zaliyah was fine without me .My little baby started solids and would drink water and baby juice while I had to work. Nursing became our time. She would nurse on demand when I was around and my husband would even bring her to my job to nurse if I worked a long shift. Again, we had found our groove. Obviously the older she became the more food she ate and nursing seem to be less and less. When she was 19 months I decided to wean. One of the worst decisions I feel I ever made. I was pressured by her age and the fact that she was eating mostly food but I realize now I possibly damaged her emotionally by forcefully weaning . She wasn’t ready to be done, I live with that now. My third child was born March of 2014. I went back to work after 6 weeks and this would be my hardest time breastfeeding. I pumped as much as I could but I worked full time and bringing her to my work was not an option for this baby. I typically could provide 2 bottles while away but never much more than that so I again supplemented. Breastfeeding Zariyah went on as normal and at 14 month PP, I was once again pregnant. Zariyah wanted nothing to do with me. She simply stopped and went about her life and never cared to nurse much ever again. Zaniyah was born November of 2015 and breastfeeding her was so easy. I felt like a seasoned pro. Nothing was stopping me. I didn’t work much this time so pumping was some what easy. I only did it when needed it and I used Mother’s Love ( supplement) to help produce more when I needed. I also made lots of lactations cookies and balls, me and brewers yeast were besties for 6 months straight. Fast forward to now, Zaniyah is still knees deep and turning 3 this year. Our nursing relationship is so cool. We talk and laugh and have a general understanding. There are days where we sit around and nurse all day, but also days where we don’t nurse at all. I have no intention of forcing her to wean. I’ve witnessed her slowly lose interest in boobie and evolve into a big girl. The overwhelming negativity surrounding breastfeeding has definitely become worst this time around. I’m in no shortage of hearing “ she’s too big “ or “ what your gonna wait till she 7 to stop”. Although this is super discouraging I put my best face forward. I stand my ground and maintain my beliefs, something no one can take from me. Sometimes I want to cry, I feel so alone in my journey but thank goodness for instagram and this community that makes me feel empowered. 

Little Sunday Story Time Peach By Emily

My breastfeeding journey has left me in tears of frustration & pure joy. Its been a long, tough road these past 2 months+ and I’m hoping with all my heart that it continues for as long as my baby wants. I hope my story can help other mothers feel not alone in their journey.

I did my fair share of research on breastfeeding while I was pregnant. I thought I understood it pretty well. How hard could it be? You give birth to a baby & with a snap of your fingers, your boobs make milk. Simple. No family members of mine breastfed so they weren’t much help & I think most of them doubted me really. At my doctor visits I only asked one question about bf, “Do I breastfeed on a time schedule or on-demand?” I was told on demand at first to help build my supply. The only real worry I had was about being able to make milk. I worried I wouldn’t be able to feed my baby in the way I was dreaming of for months. During labor, I got a fever so they got worried about an infection. The doctor explained that they would have to take the baby to NICU after birth to run tests to make sure she didn’t have an infection. We both were put on antibiotics after the birth to make sure neither of us had it. So once my baby girl was born, I held her for barely 2 minutes - no skin to skin, just little kisses & she was sent off to the NICU. She spent the first 4 hours of her life there. Alone. Without her mama. I hated myself for not being with her (I still do but I’m working on healing). I was stuck in bed, I slept so I couldn’t worry. But by the time I woke up, I was able to go see her. In the NICU, a nurse attempted to help me breastfeed her but she got really frustrated at me for my baby struggling to latch. I mean this was brand new to us both! I had inverted nipples so of course she was going to struggle. It was a terrible experience. Not at all how I imagined my first latch. Surrounded by really really sick babies, holding my little girl, trying to help her the best I could with no professional breastfeeding help. We were both lost. She had a severe choking problem because she had a belly full of fluid from a fast delivery (pushed for 45 minutes) which made her not want to eat anything. After a few more struggling attempts throughout the day, I gave up. They gave me a pump so I could at least help bring in my supply. The next time we breastfed was the next morning. It was successful, I cried tears of joy alone in my hospital room (fiancé had to go to work). I was so excited. I was finally feeding my baby and she loved it! That second night in the hospital was really hard. She still was choking often which scared me to death because sometimes she couldn’t breathe at all. The nurses always came rushing in to help. She was clusterfeeding so I hardly slept because of that too. I was really worried how I would handle being a new mom on my own. The lactation consultant helped with different latch positions & nurses finally gave me a nipple shield which made feeding so much easier.

At home, she clusterfed endlessly for 2 weeks. It was a learning experience and really tested my patience. She still continues to clusterfeed but only at certain times now. Whenever she doesn’t, I feel kinda sad & like she doesn’t want me.

Around 2 weeks of breastfeeding, I got mastitis from having a huge clogged duct. I was in excruiating pain and I had no idea what was wrong with my left boob. I went to my primary care doctor and she suggested I go to the hospital to be put on IV antibiotics right away but also gave me a prescription. I just got the prescription because our local hospital is pretty terrible & the very last place I wanted to be with a newborn. After another 2 weeks it finally cleared up. I got a lot more cautious with making sure I had no clogged ducts!

I’m still having issues with that boob: redness & oversupply. I asked my baby’s doctor about it and she had no idea what was wrong and seemed not concerned about the redness. At my 6 week pp check up, I asked my ob/gyn & she was clueless & unconcerned too.

My point is: there isn’t enough medical support surrounding breastfeeding. No one warned me of the downsides of it. No one said, “Hey! The reality of breastfeeding is everyday will have new challenges!” No one told me it would take an incredible amount of determination to make it through the hard moments. Also, I had to find out myself that my baby is the best snuggle partner, and that every moment I’m feeding her, I’ll love her more & more. The day our breastfeeding journey ends I’ll be so heartbroken. I’ll miss seeing the comfort my breasts brought her and watching her drift off to sleeping while suckling. I’m really grateful for Maria and this community. We are so strong when we come together. Even mothers that are formula feeding, or whatever way you are feeding your little one, I hope you feel included in this community too. We are all beautiful mamas and we’re doing amazing.

Little Sunday Story Time Peach by Kat

My sweet girl Iris was born earlier this year in January. I knew before I even got pregnant I wanted to breastfeed. I went to classes at my hospital with my fiancé, YouTubed a lot about breastfeeding latches, positioning, and products, and I read about it in pregnancy books. I was so determined to make it work. 

When my daughter was one week old I scheduled a visit with a lactation consultant. And mid visit I broke down crying. I thought I was doing fine minus struggling with latching here and there, but the lactation consultant said she had lost over 8% of her birth weight and I’d need to either pump or supplement with formula. She gave me nipple shields, syringes, a bottle, etc. She also handed me a sheet of paper to record every single feeding and if I breastfed her or gave her expressed milk and how many oz if she was given the bottle. I was so overwhelmed, my body was going through a hormonal roller coaster and I felt like I was starving my innocent newborn. I went home that day and learned how to use the Medela breast pump in 5 minutes and began pumping away. Two days later I saw a second lactation consultant; she was much friendlier and warmer and could tell I’d been blaming myself. She wanted me to both pump and breastfeed in front of her. I did both, and she helped my daughter develop a better latch and was amazed at how much milk I was able to express. She half-joked that I could donate! That did wonders for my shot confidence. I went home feeling like a champ, when just two days prior I was inconsolable. 

My daughter was combination breastfed and bottle fed expressed milk for a month (that’s when grandma ending leaving back home and no one would watch over Iris while I pumped). I looked at my girl and said to her “let’s try to figure this out together”. We had to work at it, she would often tire and fall asleep at the breast but I’d wake her up so she could finish. Her weight gain was rising and steady.

For the first 1-4 months we cluster fed on the sofa. There’d be days where I’d barely move off the couch! Now she is 8 months old and our breastfeeding journey continues... it is ever changing, but it is still what she wants. It is what I want. I’m not ready for it to end, because I realize I need it just as much as she does. I wouldn’t know where I’d be without the support of that second lactation consultant and Instagram sites like yours to calm my unsteady mind during some long nights. But now I’m confident in our journey and I’m so grateful I was able to receive the right support in time to fulfill my breastfeeding goals. 

Thank you!

Kat + Iris 💜

Little Sunday story time peach by Ceilidh

Writing a breastfeeding journey after C-Section is not something I naively even imagined I would be writing... 

Growing up - 

Growing up as a little girl all I ever wanted was to be a mum , I was obsessed with my dolls and playing ‘ mummys’ as a young girl and as I grew up I was always so in awe of anything pregnancy /baby related. I used to say I wanted at least 5 children !  

Fast forward a few years and at the age of 17 , I found myself pregnant. Not planned , but it was happy news, I had been in a relationship for a few years and everybody seemed happy for me and more importantly I felt ready, unfortunately at 10 weeks I found out I’d had a missed miscarriage.... I was heartbroken and shocked. I knew then that was all I wanted , so we tried again and a few months later I found myself starting at two pink lines again. Except this time it felt scary, I knew I wasn’t guaranteed a baby. So it was a nervous 12 weeks .... at the 12 week scan all was good , so I began to relax, and enjoyed pregnancy- even the sickness because that reassured me that my baby was doing well. I loved my bump. I wrote a birth plan and as an 18 girl , in my head , the birth would go exactly how I’d written it. No pain relief (I decided it was best for my baby ) , nice relaxing water birth, home as soon as possible to bond...... and unless absolutely unavoidable no c-section (the thought terrified me ).... 

2009 Darcey - 

The world had other plans for me.... at 38 weeks and 2 days , and having spent the last few weeks wishing the days away so I could meet my precious baby girl , just so so excited, my world was about to become crashing down. I woke up through the night to what felt like a gush... thinking it was my waters I jumped out of bed , with a wave of excitement which quickly turned to terror when I looked down and saw it was blood. And a lot of it , pouring out. An ambulance was called. I sat on the end of my bed staring at my baby girls Moses basket , with my hand on my belly , praying she would be ok. I felt a kick. I felt relieved. By the time we got to hospital it’s all a bit of a blur for me . I was rushed straight to theatre for what they called a ‘ crash c -section’. Even then I never imagined my baby might not be ok. My baby girl Darcey was born at 4.44 on the 8th of February. The doctors came and told us, our baby was very sick . She had been deprived of oxygen for two long. We spend the day by her bed side singing to her talking to her , touching her , telling her how loved she was. The doctors advised that the best thing to do was turn off the machines and cuddle her as she passed away. She was taken off the machines, and placed in my arms and we watched as she passed away, surrounded by her closest family. At the time it felt like I was in a daze , it hurt like hell but looking back now I have no idea how I did it , how I managed to breathe or function. The doctor pronounced her time of passing at 00.02 on the 9th February. A lovely midwife Melanie  helped me to bath a dress my baby, I put her in a lovely cosy snow suit that was packed for her in my hospital bag. It had began snowing that night so it felt appropriate. My heart was shattered , I felt so raw. My beautiful Darcey is always in my heart and thoughts and influences the decisions I make every day even now. 

2010 Lila- 

8 months on and a lot of support from family and friends and guidance from various consultants there I was staring at two pink lines, I felt so many emotions , relief , excitement , pure terror and also guilt. My pregnancy this time went smoothly , I was closely monitored , I felt supported , it was emotionally hard and there was not a single day I was able to relax  or fully believe I would be bringing a baby home . I felt like a ticking time bomb. 

My little girl Lila was born at 37 weeks by planned c-section. Everything went well , She was placed in my arms. I had my baby and she was safe.. I was a mummy. 

Luckily she latched on almost straight away , and from then she pretty much spent most of her days on there... Night two at home my nipples were so sore and cracked I was in pain with every ‘ suck’ but we persevered. I had mastitis a few times, and when Lila was around 5 months old , one mastitis bout had developed into an abcess which had to be drained at hospital. Each time I had mastitis or a rough night of no sleep , my family would say ‘ give her a bottle ‘ ‘ you need a break ‘ ‘ she must be hungry ‘ ‘ she will sleep better with a bottle ‘ .... and when your feeling anxious about whether your baby is getting enough that is not what you want to here. I know now she was getting enough and every emotion I was feeling was normal but as a young (19 ) year old slightly traumatised girl ... the doubt set in. By her first birthday Lila was still feeding from me , frequently... mostly for comfort night and day.... I was happy for her to do that but was beginning to feel like I was being judged by everyone around me. I would feed Lila where ever I was , out at a restaurant/in the park .... it didn’t matter , if ‘ boob ‘ was what Lila wanted then that’s what she got , whether it was because she was hungry or she needed that comfort. I did sometimes feel over whelmed. Like I needed a break , or at least a good nights sleep. I tried Lila on probably every single bottle out at the time , she wouldn’t take to them and I wouldn’t force her. Breastfeeding for Lila was her safe place , if she was poorly, tiered , sore , if she had a wee bump , she would cosy in and feed. It became our normal . But the older Lila got it was very obvious to me that what we were doing and what felt so natural to us wasn’t socially ‘ the norm’. At the age of two I decided Lila was ready to wean. A few weeks after her second birthday I told her ‘ the milk was all done ‘ she took it ok , other than when she was tiered .... It took a week of replacing comfort feeds with cuddles /singing .... and distraction through the day and we had a few tears ..... But it was so much easier than I ever imagined it would be to wean Lila off. I must say even though Lila was so reliant on comfort nursing , she was a very advanced and secure little girl . Not shy . And happy to go to family /play groups for periods of time. Age 2 and a half she had her first sleepover with her grandparents and was completely fine. My breastfeeding story with Lila was on the hole a positive one , I just wish I could have told myself not to worry what people thought , I was doing best for my baby. 


2017 7 years later- 

A wiser head , with a lot more anxieties in life and with a new partner I was ready to put myself through whatever would come again. I’d had some surgeries on my cervix , some biopsy’s removed and part of my cervix  removed two years previous .... I knew deep down it wouldn’t be easy but I hoped this time round things would be ok . I had Lila , so I knew it was possible to get that happy ending . 

I found myself staring at two pink lines again. This time I felt excited , completely positive for us all. It wasn’t to be and just a week and a half  later I was miscarrying. I felt quite traumatised and shocked. Angry that my body had failed again. 

A few months later I was staring at two pink lines again..... this time I felt nervous... I knew that if things didn’t work out this time I couldn’t put myself and my family through anymore heart ache. This was the last try I could emotionally take.   

Harper - 

This pregnancy was full of drama. Every stage felt like it brought another worry. I had various bleeds from early on up to 11 weeks , some really quite big , and with every one I gave up hope. But every scan , there would be a little heart beat. At 16 weeks we found out we were having a baby girl. It felt right , I would have been just as happy with a boy , but I think something inside me knew I was made for baby girls.... I began to relax.... we shared the news.... then at a 19 week scan we found out my cervix wasn’t coping and was unlikely to hold much longer. The utter panic. Of hearing your baby is doing perfectly well , growing so well. But knowing that once again your body is failing and knowing that if it did , your baby is too young to survive. I felt broken. A few days of lying as still as possible and I was in theatre getting a cervical stitch to hold my cervix in place.... it was such a bizarre and scary experience, being on the maternity ward , going into the theatre, receiving a spinal , but knowing I wasn’t leaving with a baby. The procedure went well. The consultant said it was a struggle due to the shape of my damaged cervix but that she was happy with outcome and positive it should hold. I just had to take it easy , no heavy lifting /exercise..... 

16 weeks later of doing not very much apart from worrying ... at 35 weeks , the stitch was removed.... a much less scary procedure than getting the stitch in ..... 

One week later at 36 weeks and climbing out of bed... my heart stopped... I felt a gush . It felt exactly like the gush I had felt all those years ago . I can’t explain the place that took my head too. I was quickly reassured by my partner it was clear ... completely clear ... it’s just the waters it’s not blood. I’d spent years imagining what it would feel like to fall into labour naturally, a bit sad /envious that I’d never experience it and yet it had just happened and all I felt was fear. Off we went to the hospital and rightly enough my waters had gone ... kind of confirmed by the puddle in the car and my wet leggings.... the hospital knew of my history so were quick to reassure my and put me on the monitors . My baby girl was doing well, she was just on her way a little early. I began hand expressing to try and collect some colostrum for her once she arrived, I say I , I mean my partner... I don’t think either of us imagined I’d be lying in a hospital bed with him being taught how to hand express....   A few hours before being taken to theatre her heart rate was becoming un steady.... the midwife sat by the bed reassuring me , explaining it would probably be because my heart rate was increasing... not to panic ... I was in the right place..... everybody who knows me will know if I’m panicking .... telling me not to panic does not help. I just knew I wanted my baby out now. Going to theatre I was so teary and anxious , again it’s a bit of a blur .... 

My baby girl Harper was born crying and placed on my chest ... for a breath second ... then the midwife scooped her up. They took her into the next room and I didn’t understand what was happening. It was so scary to be back lying helpless on a theatre table not knowing what was going on. Again brought me back to a place in my head I did not want to be. I took deep breaths , the doctors / surgeons around me tried to reassure me.  A midwife came through  and  asked my partner  if he wanted to go through into the room. To take some pictures and they would explain to him what was happening. As much as it shouldn’t have mattered , I wanted to be the one taking pictures and being told what was happening. This probably stems from when Darcey was born and me not being well enough to see her so a few family members saw her first ....I was happy my baby girl would have her dad in the room with her , and would hear his voice and hopefully feel a little calmer in the scary unknown situation she found herself in, in which I was helpless. My partner came back and explained she was having breathing difficulties which can be common with premature babies born via c-section and that they were taking her to the neonatal. I cried and cried. I’d failed my baby. She wasn’t ok. I was so worried about going into the neonatal Ward, I knew the sounds and beeps would fill me bad memories. I got taken back to the ward , while Darren (my partner ) went down to the neonatal unit. They brought me a picture of Harper , it should have made me happy but it felt like dejavu ... I cried and cried. She was absolutely perfect and beautiful but she was g meant to be lying attached to machines. I wanted to see my baby now. The midwife went away and came back and said right she was going to take me up , I somehow managed to get out the bed but then almost passed out , she said she was so sorry but she thought I’d better wait a while she didn’t want me passing out in the corridor. A wee while later my mum and sister arrived at the hospital with my daughter Lila  , unaware of the situation we were once again in. I realise now the situation was no where near the same but at the time I had completely convinced myself it was bad. I was staring at a photo of my baby wired up to machines , not cuddling her. It felt the same. I felt awful. I also had to try and stay calm and reassure my daughter Lila , who was expecting to see her baby sister , who knew all about her big sister Darcey . I decided it would be best if Darren took Lila to see her baby sister Harper , I was worried as she had seen photos and videos of Darcey , heard the noises on the videos of the machines and I didn’t want her to thing Harper was going to be an angel too. The midwife spoke to Lila and agreed Lila was ok to go into the neonatal. I sat and cried again. I’d imagined the moment Lila met her baby sister for years and years  and it most certainly wasn’t like this.  


Neonatal and breastfeeding- 

Harper spent 5 days in the neonatal, I hated being away from her , it felt so wrong and un natural to me. And still now 8 months on , I’m still traumatised by being away from her . We did skin to skin, we practised latching... but my little Harper was not great at latching on. The midwifes suggested I keep hand expressing to get up supply and in the mean time Harper was tube fed formula ... everybody said that because I had breastfed Lila my milk may come in quicker this time , but it didn’t ... we were just getting small amounts.... day 3 , whilst Darren was hand expressing ... a big squirt of milk hit him right in the eye .... oh how we laughed..... by day 5 Harper was nursing then being topped up.... her latch was perfect , I had expected pain as with Lila.... but none came , even now 8 months on , I haven’t had a single bit of nipple pain. I joke that’s because they (my nipples)  never did ‘ recover ‘ from Lila.  


By day 7 at home I’d stopped the top ups and Harper was now exclusively breastfeeding, whenever , she liked for as long as she liked....  it was tiring and I was constantly worried she wasn’t getting enough . Debating with myself whether I should just give her formula. In the end I stuck to what I knew , I ignored the doubts . And we breastfed .  

Negative comments- 

Theres probably not a negative comment I’ve not been told over my time breastfeeding ..... ‘ she’s using you as a dummy , being a consistent one...... yes she is... kind of .... a dummy is a modern day man made prop used to mimic a mother’s nipple..... I must add I have nothing against bottle feeding /dummies.... in fact if Harper would take a dummy my car journeys /long pram trips would be a lot less stressful at times.  But if she wants to comfort nurse for whatever reason that is ok , where ever we are , whatever we are doing , and it is certainly not weird. It is 100% natural. 

‘She’s eating solids now, she doesn’t need you as much ‘ ..... I think until you breastfeeding yourself you can’t understand how much more breastfeeding means than feeding your baby, for me with both girls breastfeeding is there safe place . It’s not solely about the milk.  

‘ she should be sleeping through , she doesn’t need the feeds’... can you imagine waking up in the night feeling scared , lonely, overtiered, stressed, worried and your partner saying to you no I’m not cuddling you , go back through there and go to sleep. No loving partner would do that . So why should I refuse my baby her comfort needs for the sake of a good nights sleep. I know from my experience with Lila , the better nights will come.... it may take a while but they will come. Time passes quickly. The long nights won’t last, and on the bad nights I remind myself this. 

I don’t have any plans to stop breastfeeding Harper (now 8 months ) any time soon. I will nurse her until she is ready to stop. Whether that’s one year , 18 months , 2 years.....  I feel so much less concerned with what other people think now than I did when I was feeding Lila. That’s probably due to me being 7 years older .... but also because I know from Lila that she did thrive .... she was able to leave me ..... she is a secure and confident young girl .... on her first day of playgroup she didn’t even look back. Yes it’s exhausting and I am still walking around with my leggings on and hair scraped back most days , stealing 5 minutes here and there to take a bath in peace , or spend some time with Lila or my partner , but I know Harper and Lila don’t care what I look like , Lila understands just now Harper needs a lot of mums time but that it won’t always be like this and my partner Darren understands I am doing the best I can to help out baby thrive , and hold my self and is all together, he knows Harper won’t always be so reliant on her mumma and that we will get our date nights again. When  the time is right to stop feeding Harper , we will know. Breastfeeding has been such a massive part of my parenting journey and is something I really feel is so misunderstood by society. 

I wouldn’t change my breastfeeding experience the determination, the effort and time is what has created such strong bonds between myself and my girls and I am very proud of that and thankful that for us breastfeeding has worked out.  I am not against bottle feeding and understand breastfeeding is not for everyone , but for me it’s what feels right. It’s not easy but it’s worth it. 

When Harper was 10 days old we visited Darcey’s ‘ special garden’ to put flowers down for what should have been her 9th birthday. Lila and Harper will grow up knowing all about Darcey and how precious pregnancy really is. 

Thank you for reading my story of pregnancy/baby loss/ and breastfeeding after C-Section. 

Ceilidh - one exhausted but proud breastfeeding Mumma xxx 

Little Sunday Story Time peach by Chloe

The first time Paisley latched was a moment I will never forget. Nurses cleaned her up, weighed her and immediately stuck her on my chest. Within seconds she was rooting around and making the sweetest little noises to let me know she was hungry. I had never felt a love like this and it was overwhelming to say the least. My nurse and my doula helped guide her to my left breast and ease me into using a football style hold. And just like that she was latched and nursing like a champ. I felt a sigh of relief flush over my body. I had spent many months waiting for this exact moment and I wasn’t sure how it would all play out. After a couple of minutes we switched her to my right boob, but she didn’t want anything to do with it. My heart sunk and immediately my anxiety rose. What if this wasn’t going to work? What if this is a sign that she’ll never nurse from my right side? Honestly, I was freaking out. My doula tried to reassure me that sometimes babies have a favorite side and that it would take time for her to get comfortable on both. But the voice of doubt was already in my head and I heard it loud and clear. 

I was only seven or eight when breastfeeding was first introduced to me. My mother and I were walking through our church and I saw a mom nursing her baby. Truthly, I was in total shock. What in the world was she doing? THATS what boobs are for? Confusion set in and I couldn’t hold back. Looking over at my mom I whispered “ewww, that’s SO GROSS!”. Her eyes got big and she held me close as she whispered back into my ear, “it’s not gross, the benefits for you and the baby are huge. Also, you create a really special bond from nursing.” In that moment my brain did a total 180 degree spin and I began questioning anything I had ever seen in movies or read in books. Boobs have for many, many years been viewed as sex objects and never really shown in a respectful way detailing their natural purpose. It was from that point forward I decided that breastfeeding would be something I wanted for myself and my baby—yearning to have that special bond that she had talked so about that same day. 

Fast forward many years and here I was. Laying in a hospital bed feeling more insecure, self conscience and vulnerable than I had been my entire life. I was so scared of disappointing my baby. I was so afraid of failing her. Years were spent fantasizing of this exact moment but the pressure was so heavy and so real. A couple weeks before Paisley was born I started to use my breast pump at home after reading numerous articles about the benefits of storing colostrum in syringes and freezing them. The uses for that liquid gold were insurmountable. The first time I tried it out I was so excited, I only got a couple little drops but it could have basically been a gallon. With a smile on my face I peered through the clear plastic bottle and stared for what felt like 10 minutes at these tiny drops. I couldn’t believe that my body had made this perfectly formulated liquid just for my baby. It felt so strange and so perfect all at the same time.

Paisley was still having troubles staying latched on my right side and really wanted nothing to do with nursing that particular boob. I decided to be patient and just go with the flow. Everyone around me was telling me to do different holds—football, craddle, etc etc. It was overwhelming and I couldn’t wait to leave so that I could figure out what worked for us the best. I would stare down at her and just knew that we were going to get into a rhythm of it all eventually. Once we got home, I felt so much more at ease. Without people hanging over my shoulders I was able to relax and focus on perfecting her latch. You see, I have a larger chest. My boobs are saggy-ish and they have always been that way. Because of that she really had to work hard in order to get a good latch. We kept trying every hold I had ever been shown but nothing was really “working” for us. I finally sucked it up and decided to do a little bit of video searching on BoobTube, I mean YouTube. Finally I came across a video about lying back breastfeeding for moms with a larger chest and it truly saved our nursing relationship. I linked the exact video that I watched but there is so many more available as well! It not only helped my constant back pain from trying to attempt the holds that weren’t really working for us but it helped ease Paisley’s choking fits she would have from heavy, overactive letdowns. Those made me feel the worst. Each and every time I would feed her she usually would get a huge spray of milk down her throat and it ultimately ended up in a huge choking event that left me holding my breath until she stopped. By laying back in my bed on some pillows I was able to weaken the strength of the letdown and allow her to catch her breath and drink at a normal pace. This forceful letdown was the strongest in the first 6 weeks before my supply leveled out, but she dealt with choking until she reached 9 or 10 months old. 

On day 4 my milk came in and my boobs were heavy….so, so unbearably painful and heavy. I texted my midwife and my doula and they both told me the same thing— do NOT pump them out. They had me convinced that it would be terrible for my supply and I ended up listening to them. I'll be doing a separate blog detailing the strained, mess of a  relationship I had with my midwife and my doula, but for now I'll keep it to breastfeeding. The next day I was so full that Paisley couldn’t even latch. When she did my nipples were so cracked and bleeding that each time she did latch I would burst into tears. I wanted to give up. It was all just too much and too painful. Finally, I remembered that a friend of ours had been a lactation consultant for many years and I decided to give her a call. She told me she’d be over right away and within a couple hours she was there. She said to me “first things first, you have GOT to pump those things out”. At that point my boobs were starting to become covered in patches of red as I got clogged ducts and borderline mastitis. Within minutes of pumping I had filled both bottles with 12 ounces of milk. I wish I could explain in words just how relieved I felt. Imagine having two huge sacks of potatoes hanging from your chest and then just throwing them as far as you possible can? That barely scratches the surface of what I experienced. She stayed for about an hour and she showed me other holds and reassured me that I would be able to figure everything out. There is something so special and unforgettable about receiving support, especially when you’re so unsure about basically everything in the beginning. She left me some Lanolin for my cracked nipples (its magic in a bottle by the way), gave me a few more pointers and told me that I could contact her if I ever needed anything else. I don’t know where we would be today had she not come over to help me and for that I will always be so grateful.

I ended up putting the milk I had pumped into some storage bags and stuck them in the freezer. I made a decision that day that I would be more picky about who’s advice I’d be listening to from that point on and knew that needing to listen to my gut was the most important part if I was going to be the best mom possible for that little girl. That pumping session ended up leading to months and months of pumping my extra milk and storing it in the freezer. Within the first week I donated over 100 ounces to a mom who was undergoing chemotherapy for breast cancer and the feeling I got from helping her out in that way was the most rewarding experience ever. In the course of 5 months I donated almost 2000 ounces to other mothers and babies in need. From the very beginning I had an oversupply and that was perfectly okay with me. I felt like it was my calling to give it to mamas that truly needed it. During the first week or so Paisley seemed to always have a witching hour that was full of gas, screaming and colic. I couldn’t figure out why. After doing a little bit of elimination from my diet we discovered that dairy and chocolate were the culprits (sad, right?). I was hooked on baking chocolate cupcakes and topping them with homemade chocolate cream cheese frosting so this was definitely a problem for me. But nonetheless, eliminating them from my daily intake elevated not only her tummy problems, but mucousy, poopy diapers that wreaked havoc on her cute little outfits. She luckily outgrew this sensitivity after 6 months but it felt like forever. I definitely gained so much respect for moms who have babies with allergies after that experience. There's nothing worse than seeing your child in pain.

Another hurtle we had to overcome was never taking a bottle. She always refused a pacifier as well but that wasn’t really a big deal. To this day she has never actually taken a bottle more than maybe 2 or 3 times her entire life and only for my sister. When she was about 3 weeks old we attempted a bottle so that I could get a little bit of sleep because lets face it, I was exhausted. She refused. She knew what the real thing was and didn’t want anything to do with a phony nipple. So when she was about 4 months old she started reaching for things, specifically cups that had straws in them. One day I was drinking from my Yeti cup which had an acrylic straw in it, she reached out and grabbed it. I said what the heck and let her try to take a sip. Sure enough, she sucked water right up into her mouth. I was shocked. This baby who had refused every bottle under the sun (including one that cost $40!) was drinking from a straw like a champ. Within the next month I had purchased these sippy cups that have silicone straws and before we knew it she was getting her pumped, thawed milk and drinking it like a champ! This was only when we were away for the evening or if I let someone watch her while running errands, but it was a relief nonetheless. I felt myself exhale for the first time since we had attempted a bottle. I could see naps and the possibility of some me time off in the distance; yay!

The next couple months were spent getting into a routine of feeding times and pumping, all of which were day and night. I would

sometimes pump at 3am after I fed Paisley in order to extend the amount that my body would make the next day. At first I used a Medela Advanced Style pump but after about 8 weeks it was causing more pain than productivity. I had heard so many amazing things about the Spectra S1 pump and so I decided to make a small investment in myself. I’m so glad that I did. It was wireless so I could charge it up and take it wherever I wanted to, no longer strapped to the wall I was able to pump and do things. It's also hospital grade so that was a plus. Pumps of the same quality are thousands of dollars while this one was just around $200. If you're going to request anything at your baby shower, you need this. I promise. The suction from the pump was so close to Paisley’s latch that letdowns happened almost instantly for me. I didn’t hurt anymore after pumping and was able to collect so much more milk. Truly a lifesaver. None of this is sponsored whatsoever, I just think it’s so important to share what works especially if you’re a first time mommy! I’m going to link everything throughout this post as well as on the bottom so you can check everything out for yourself. Side note: the Spectra S1 and S2 are usually covered by most insurance policies so definitely check that out before purchasing one! I spent 15 minutes pumping during each session, I couldn’t handle doing it for much longer than that because I usually pumped while Paisley was asleep and I didn’t want to waste precious relaxing time. Haha. On a normal day I would pump 4-5 times a day, each session bringing about 4-12 ounces of milk. I was a milking machine but with a steady oversupply, happy was an understatement. Nothing filled me up with joy more than stocking up on frozen milk, knowing that I had that stash on hand for any kind of just in case moment that may arise. 

*Not so fun fact: during Hurricane Irma we lost power for 4 days and I almost lost my entire deep freezer (yes, I had to buy a deep freezer because my fridge freezer ran out of space) full of milk. Luckily after we came back from evacuating we were able to hook up the generator and save it before it was too late. I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost it all. Probably faded into oblivion. 

Around 12 months old I made the decision to donate every ounce of milk I had left to another mama that received most of it previously and I  started supplementing with formula. Most of the time that I gave Paisley pumped milk she would just end up wasting it, like she knew the difference between that and what was on tap. I hated having to refreeze the milk (to use for milk baths for diaper rashes, etc.) or needing to dump it out if it went too far past a usable date so I knew I needed to do something different. I wasn’t really torn making this decision because I will always and forever do whats best for me and my baby—I’m so glad that I did. My favorite brand so far is the Happy Baby Organic Formula and truthfully, she loves it. We still nurse 3-4 times a day, usually its for bonding or if she needs to find some peace and calm. With that she receives about the same amount of sippy cups as well. Some days if I’m working the entire day she doesn’t nurse at all and so far that’s been perfectly fine too. My boobs don’t really seem to notice so I’m not in pain and she doesn’t really act very differently either. I’m planning on transitioning her to almond milk within the next month or so to wean her from the formula, but for now I'm loving the limbo we've been in. I could do without the twiddling and the biting though if I'm being honest.

Fast forward to 16 months of nursing and the end doesn’t look like it’s anywhere in sight. I’m not sure when she will wean but I’m not too worried about it. She will let me know when she’s done. Now, will I be nursing her till she’s 5 or 6? Definitely not. But if she nurses till she’s 2 or 3 I don’t think I’ll mind. She has her entire rest of her life to be a big kid and then eventually an adult, but these couple precious years will be spent nurturing her and bonding as much as possible. It’s so so important. 

I feel like I’ve jumped around a lot throughout this story, but truthfully this entire journey has been such a blur—time really does just fly by. The beginning was so difficult but I am so glad that I stuck with it and pushed passed things even when they were a challenge for me. I’m thankful to have had the support that I received from my lactation consultant and my husband because without them I really don’t think I would have made it through the hard times. I hope that from my story you have left with a positive outlook on your own journey, whether it be in the future or the past. We all have so many amazing stories that need to be shared with other mothers because we all need to feel less alone. Breastfeeding can be difficult, it can be tiring and sometimes you might feel like just throwing in the towel but I can promise you that it is so, so worth it. Always reach out for help and never, ever let other people try and tell you how you need to feed your baby. Talk to someone, share your story and remember that no matter what, you can do this mama!

x. chloe'

Little Sunday story time peach written by Vicky

I was 21 when my first son arrived. I was finishing university and my husband and I were settling into living together. I read Every. Single. Book…about pregnancy but I never read about the birth or about breastfeeding; I assumed I would just know what to do. 

Eleven years later, I’m older and wiser . I had a lot more power than I realised. Now we are surrounded by so many empowering messages about child birth and breastfeeding it just wasn’t like that when I began my family.

Daniel decided he was arriving just over three weeks early, my waters broke in the house and we made our way to the hospital, I was at 3cm; that’s where I stayed for the next 19 hours! Baby started to get distressed and we had a very rushed & frightening section to get him out. 

I honestly remember so little, baby was given to my husband and they had to leave while I got stitched. When I finally got a hold of him I was exhausted, shaking vigorously and everyone left me , to make phone calls. All I could think was please someone come back and take this little being, I’m going to drop him because I can’t stop shaking.

We tried that night to get Daniel to latch but he couldn’t, the midwives told me he was struggling to suck because he was that little bit early, so we expressed using a machine but the colostrum was lost init. They said he needed more and that we should feed him formula using a preemie bottle to stimulate the back of his throat to suck.  I continued to try to express in the hospital but quite frankly I was treated really poorly, left when I asked for help & I really hadn’t a clue what I was doing. I think I was in shock.

Daniel only had 3 days of nourishment from me and he went onto formula.

My second pregnancy two years later I waned to be more prepared, I wanted a VBAC & I wanted to breastfeed.

Again I went into labour myself this time 10 days early; I tried for a VBAC but I stalled again and it just didn’t happen. I was insistent though that if it came to a section I wanted baby to be given to me! Not dad and the baby had to stay with me , unless something drastically went wrong. All this happened and oh boy it was beautiful. 

The section was fine, not as rushed, I wasn’t as exhausted. We had skin to skin immediately and he latched so well. I felt like wonder woman, motherearth, it was perfect

It lasted just over two weeks before my cracked nipples that were bleeding so bad that when I finally did express it was like strawberry milk. The damage was done & I quit. Jacob got formula. I was gutted.

Nine years, one ectopic preganacy and one miscarriage later we were blessed with the beautiful Reuben. This time I would breastfeed!! I was going to do it. 

And I tell you what the difference in the information available and support in nine years is astronomical.  From breast feeding support groups, the internet has so much valuable info, from articles to facebook groups to amazing youtube videos on different holds and latches. And everywhere the same thing is said, the latch has to be right. I must repeat this to myself every single day.

Reuben was no easier a birth, just like his brothers, he arrived early. Again I insisted on skin to skin straight after the section (It was a planned section this time) Our anaesthesiologist wasn’t great, she got annoyed because Reuben was crying quite a lot in the first couple of minutes, but she had handed him to me wrapped in blankets and I wanted him on my chest. She suggested giving the baby to daddy to settle him; my husband at this point was already helping me unwrap the blankets to put him on my chest. As soon as he got there he relaxed. I think the girl was just a bit inexperienced, I don’t think there was any malice in her suggestion.


 Reuben stayed on my chest fro the next 8 hours if not more. We latched and unlatched and it was beautiful.  His latch is ferocious but can be lazy especially on my right side. I have a lot of milk and the flow on that right side is especially fast and sometimes I think that because it is right there he doesn’t get deep enough and that has caused a great deal of damage and can still be sore when I’m engorged in the mornings.

Reuben had jaundice that required light therapy and because he was struggling to latch for any great length of time I hand expressed my colostrum and the nurses fed him with a syringe…this still annoys me. Despite me asking continually why could I not do it they never let me. When they have jaundice you need to try and flush it out so feeding frequently was especially important.

When we got him home my milk came in, and getting him latched was really hard, often I would sit for 20 minutes with my milk spraying everywhere while he opened his wee mouth so wide but never got that latch that he needed. We hand expressed and pumped to try and get him on but in the end had to start to give him a bottle of EBM. I really was losing hope that I was going to fail again. 


By day 4 the pump wasn’t pulling the same amount of milk out and I told my husband if he doesn’t get back onto the boob our journey will be over. We got him in football hold, my husband dropped a couple of drops of colostrum into his mouth and I latched him on. He was tricked but it worked! That feeling of your baby emptying your breast when it is so full is the best feeling on the world

Our journey has been full of obstacles; Reuben needed an operation at 3.5 weeks old for a condition called pyloric stenosis. We had thrush three times and more cracked nipples (salt water soak is the best) and blocked ducts (Leicithin tablets, recommended by health visitor) I’ve had my first full week with no painful blocked ducts!! This is amazing. However I have to say I am so proud of him and when I look at his 19 chins and big chunky legs I think wow. I made them. 

If I think about what made the difference between Reuben’s breastfeeding journey and the other two boys I think support.  I had all the knowledge with Jake but I couldn’t apply it very well. With Reuben I had an AMAZING health visitor, who literally checked in on me twice a week from he was born until he was 17 weeks old, that was probably because he was sick but she was so pro breastfeeding that her encouragement was incredible. My girlfriends all started their families recently and my very best friend in particular successfully breastfed her daughter and had great tips and was really encouraging.  Then you have instagram etc full of wonderful women feeding their babies and you feel inspired. 

None of this was the case when I was younger, my health visitor didn’t help and I was too embarrassed to ask was the pain normal.

The beauty of having all these avenues and areas for support is that with breastfeeding there is never any one right answer. You can have an issue and you can ask the exact same question to several people and you will get several different answers, you can find a resolution that suits your baby.  There are no absolutes.

 I set out to make it to 6 weeks, I’m now at 20 weeks and I’m so very happy to have nourished Reuben the way that I have.



Copy of Little Sunday Story Time Peach by Ruby

I sat there sobbing, my tiny little girl was screaming her head off, and I had some random lady trying to shove her mouth onto my exposed, engorged breast, to no avail. Maia was four days old, my milk had just come in and she had barely fed. The nursery nurse turned to me and said ‘do you have any formula and bottles? We’re going to need those.’ Through my tears and Maia’s screams, I countered that I had pumped milk from earlier. My mum had encouraged me to pump for the first time to keep my supply going. ‘Even better,’ she said. I watched Maia down the milk I had pumped for her and promptly fall asleep again.

That was the start of not just my pumping journey but also Maia’s bottle-feeding preference. I go back to that day so often and wonder whether if I had a more educated breastfeeding counsellor, a lactation consultant, if I had persisted more, would things have changed? 

The next ten weeks I battled with Maia to get her back to the boob. We had her 80% anterior tongue tie cut privately on day 8, I visited a cranial osteopath, we tried nipple shields and various positions, I grabbed her before she cried for milk to latch her before she even noticed. But she still just hated boobies. It’s hard not to take it personally. Maybe she doesn’t accept me as her Mum? Maybe she hasn’t bonded to me like I have to her? Maybe there’s something wrong with me? 

All through it, I pumped. And before I knew it I was three months in and had decided to stop actively trying to latch Maia, it was too emotionally painful. I reckoned I must have been the only mum to ever have to Exclusively pump. Surely all the other mums have mastered it by now, I felt. 

Shortly after that I found the Facebook group that I credit to getting me to this day (currently we are at 10 months of EP-big). When I discovered them, I remember writing this long post about how in pain I was that Maia rejected the boob, how pleased I was to find that I wasn’t the only one. I discovered how many women were doing it not only for the same reasons as me, but so many other heroic reasons. Pumping for cleft lip and palate babies, pumping because they have breastfeeding aversion, pumping because of low supply or flat nipples. Pumping due to weight loss, tongue tie or nipple trauma. All hero mums. 

Fast forward to now, we are ten months down the line and although I’m constantly battling nipple tears and my oversupply is diminishing, I still don’t see an end point. I have 67L of breastmilk stored in my freezer (aside from the fact I’ve donated around 37L) that could get her to at least a year, but I’m desperate to keep going. I want her to have fresh milk until she’s one, maybe even one and a half. Two would be brilliant but currently doesn’t seem possible! All I want mothers to know is that exclusively pumping is definitely sustainable. It’s a legitimate option to breastmilk feeding your baby should you need to. And if you ever need support, there are tonnes of us out there waiting to hear from you. 

Little Sunday Story Time Peach by Charlotte

'And are you planning on breastfeeding?' Like most first time mums I'd only ever thought I'd breastfeed my baby, so replying with an oh yes' seemed like the natural response. Looking back on that moment, I wish I could have told my pre baby self that my god it'll be hard sometimes and you'll think, should I just get her on the bottle? But with all things that drive you slightly mad and leave you feeling emotionally exhausted it'll be so so worth it in the end. 

I was gifted with a baby that seemed to know what she was doing almost from the moment she was born. I remember my husband going to the car to get some random baby item and him walking back in to find little one gobbling up those first few precious drops. A sort of smug feeling crept over me... Hurrah I'd done it, now what?

I wasn't naive during pregnancy, I knew about all the problems that many women go through when breastfeeding, tongue-ties, mastitis, cracked nipples, the list goes on. What I hadn't really given any thought to was the emotional enormity that being solely responsible for the growth of a tiny human brings with it. Me, and me alone was keeping this tiny bundle alive. I was the only person who can, not only nurture, but also instantly comfort my baby. This is a wonderful privilege but a role that is an emotional roller-coaster. The early wake ups, the cluster feeding late at night, the never being able to leave her for more than 2 hours at a time, all had me questioning why? Why did nobody tell me about the intense pressure, the loneliness in the middle of the night, the sheer exhaustion from essentially being a walking udder and the resentment felt towards your soundly sleeping other half. Alongside all this, you have the never ending advice, support and questions - get her on the bottle, it'll fill her up, when are you going to stop breastfeeding her? There were days when I felt so frustrated, angry and full of resentment by what everyone told me should have been the most natural thing in the world. I was so surprised by these feelings, like a wave they came crashing down on me. No one had even hinted that I might have felt like this, was I missing something?

But like all good roller coasters, after the deepest lows come the massive highs. The privilege and pure joy you get from being someone's complete world is indescribable. I realise this is the same for all mothers, formula or breastfeeding, but the bond is like no other. I have spent many nights just staring at my little ones face, treasuring those moments of just us two, knowing that all too soon my tiny baby will no longer need me in the same way.

My boobs also seem to have magical powers, if baby is irritable because of teething, stick her on the boob. If she's wailing because of her jabs, stick her on the boob. If she's just generally having one of those days, give her the boob. In many ways, motherhood without using my magical boobs completely terrifies me. How will I dry those tears? What happens if she's just having one of those days? Will I be enough without my boobs?

So you see, I have a real love - hate (slight frustration!) relationship with breastfeeding. Maybe I was naive. Or maybe someone should have told me that some days you'll probably spend all day grumbling about feeding baby again. But do you know what that is completely fine and normal. You are not a bad parent for wanting to be more than just your boobs.

Somewhere in the not too distant future I will be stepping off this emotional roller-coaster. Like all things baby related, this phase (although not always at the time) seems to have passed within the blink of an eye. There have been many hard days, days when I wanted to stop it all, days when I wanted to say 'nobody told me about feeling like this' but I will always hold onto the moments with my gorgeous sleepy baby nestled in my arms, happily feeding. Probably dreaming about her next feed! 

Little Sunday Story Time Peach by Kirsty

When I became a Mum first time round I just ‘knew’ I would breastfeed. Societal pressure, a belief that it was best for my baby and unrealistic expectations as to how easy it was likely to be, it just didn’t occur to me that I might find it difficult. I wasn’t prepared for our short breastfeeding journey.  

The birth was painful and somewhat traumatic, my son inhaled meconium so was born not breathing. After a few minutes the wonderful team at the hospital got him breathing and he was whisked away to the NICU to be on the safe side where my husband went with him and gave him his first bottle whilst I was stitched up. 

So it was several hours before I got to hold my son and at that point his was bundled up and fast asleep. We tried breastfeeding over the next 2 days (we stayed in hospital as they wanted to ensure feeding was established first) but my son was very sleepy and wouldn’t wake to feed despite everyone’s best efforts.  By the second night of being on a Postnatal ward (getting no sleep) I was climbing the walls and desperate to get out. At one point we had about 5 people in our tiny cubicle trying to get our baby to feed. Eventually they were happy to let us home after he had latched a few times.

At home it would take a long time to get him to latch and he would bob off again within a couple of minutes. It was incredibly frustrating and stressful.  I went to breastfeeding support groups which helped a bit. However about 6 weeks into our breastfeeding journey and things began to get harder. My son would get really fussy on the boob and eventually would be crying too much to take a good feed. He dropped down a percentile. During this time I found breastfeeding to be a battle rather than the bonding experience I had hoped. I was still fighting to get my son onto the breast and to stay on. I felt rejected and actually felt that this difficulty breastfeeding made it even harder for us to bond. 

When my son was 9 weeks he got very bad silent reflux (at the time our gp diagnosed gas/ colic and told me “if he’s breastfed he’ll be fine”). He began crying for up to 2 hours at a time, he would go bright red and scream in pain, eventually passing out with exhaustion. I would try to feed him when he woke, sometimes he would feed, sometimes it would start the crying cycle all over again. It was a miserable time for us both. As a result my son was going up to 6 hours between feeds and dropped another percentile. 

When he was 11 weeks he went a day having just 2 feeds in 18 hours, the rest of the time he was screaming or sleeping. In desperation we took him to a&e who diagnosed silent reflux. We changed gp’s and got medication for reflux. His symptoms only improved slightly and eventually after another day where my son barely fed, we reluctantly gave him a bottle of formula (we had run out of expressed breastmilk). Frighteningly he projectile vomited all over the living room halfway through the bottle and came out in hives over his body. He was then diagnosed with CMPA (Cows Milk Protein Allergy), which had caused his silent reflux. He was reacting to the dairy in my diet through my breastmilk. I cut out dairy from my diet and my son’s symptoms went away almost overnight, he was a different baby, a happy baby. Unfortunately we now had a new feeding issue. During the 3 weeks of silent reflux, my son had been feeding very infrequently and as a result my milk supply had dropped dramatically. He would now cry at the end of every feed because he was still hungry.  I had been unable to pump in between feeds as whilst he was crying or sleeping he had to be held upright to help with the pain. Despite ‘resolving’ the problem be would cry at the end of every feed because he was still hungry. 

At this point I was exhausted & I desperately wanted my son to gain some much needed weight. Although I didn’t know it at the time I was also suffering from a Postnatal thyroid imbalance which affected my mood (& may also have affected my milk supply). It also caused insomnia and weight loss and I was exhausted emotionally and physically. With a very heavy heart and a huge amount of guilt we decided to change to formula feeding with a dairy free formula prescribed by the gp. 

Stopping breastfeeding was my decision but I felt like a failure. I had wanted to breastfeed for at least 6 months, I had expected to enjoy it, I had expected it to help us bond - I was so disappointed by our breastfeeding experience and all the challenges it had thrown up. Over the next few months I came to terms with our decision and experience, I knew we had done the right thing for us as a family at the time. Breastfeeding hadn’t worked for us, it had caused so much stress and anxiety and as a new Mum I needed to take the pressure off myself. 

2 years later I fell pregnant again. I wanted to try breastfeeding again. Thankfully our experience second time round has been much more positive. I had a homebirth, it was fantastic. I got to hold my son straight away, have skin to skin and he didn’t leave my sight at all.  He latched on vey quickly and despite some initial and expected soreness, it improved quickly. I loved the cuddles!  Unfortunately at around 5 weeks our second baby began fussing at the breast as our first did and arching away. With the benefit of hindsight and a very supportive GP I have cut dairy, soya and egg from my diet which we believe he was reacting to. 

Although having such a restricted diet is challenging (I don’t eat meat either) I have no regrets breastfeeding.  I’d love if my baby would take a bottle so my husband could enjoy feeding him too and also so I could have more one on one time with my eldest - but he just wants boob and I’m happy to meet that need. I’m incredibly proud to have reached the 6 month breastfeeding milestone that I had wanted to reach last time. Current advice is that allergy babies either breastfeed or formula feed until 2 years old. The formula tastes vile so the longer our son goes without taking a bottle and trying the formula, the more I think he may not ever drink formula, even from a cup - so I am open to the idea of extended breastfeeding if that’s the case and if that’s what my son wants and needs from me. 

Despite our challenges I want our experience to give hope to anyone who wasn’t able to breastfeed first time round or who cut their breastfeeding journey short before they had wanted to. Every baby is different and if you get a second chance, the experience may be very different, there’s always hope! x

Little Sunday story time peach by Rebecca

I started my breastfeeding journey when pregnant, moaning at my mum for trying to encourage me to breastfeed for at least a year. I would say things like “I’ll give it a go but if I can’t do it then formula is fine” or “if I can, 4/6 months is probably all I’ll do”. 10 months later and my views have totally changed, I should have realised to have support like that is quite rare and I should have appreciated it more. I didn’t know how hard it would be, and I didn’t expect to have such determination to breastfeed for as long as possible. I really don’t see us slowing down any time soon. 


Our Nina was born on her due date in October last year, weighing 11lb, 7oz’s. After 5 hours of pushing fully dilated she was born via forceps as she had shoulder dystocia and was stuck in pelvis. Our first feed was an hour after birth and it went very well. She then fed every hour/ 2 hours for the next 48 hours. By day three I thought things were going well however Nina was getting very sleepy and I was really struggling to get her to latch. After a day of struggling at home we went back to the maternity ward where she was given a glucose top up and some formula. At the time I ABSOLUTELY hated the thought of her having anything but my milk (colostrum) I had decided that I wanted to feed and that was it, and now I am failing because she won’t latch onto me, I felt like a bad Mum and that everything I was doing was wrong. We ended up being in hospital for 3 days as Nina’s weight loss had dropped to 11% from her birth weight. The midwives and I worked on latching, and after every feed I would pump milk then give her this mixed with formula if needed after the next feed. 


Day 4 my milk came in and things started going up hill from then on. Nina was feeding really well and by the end of day 5 we were home again. Nobody tells you just how emotional you are going to feel after giving birth. I was an absolute wreck, I felt like I was failing my daughter. I felt like my milk wasn’t good enough, that she didn’t want me, she preferred the bottles and that it was all going wrong. My husband was SO supportive and kept encouraging me to carry on. 


By the time Nina was a week old, we were still giving Nina expressed milk top ups after every feed but thankfully no need for formula as I was now producing enough milk, and I definitely felt it! My boobs were MASSIVE! But now a new challenge had come, Nina wouldn’t take the bottle after each feed. We had a lot of advice from various members of the maternity department but we followed some advice from an expert which came to our house, and this was to give Nina bottle before breast whilst she is hungry. In theory this sounded like such a good idea as she would be really hungry and then take it easily. However this meant that Nina would from that point not latch onto me at all, I then proceeded to pump every feed entirely and give it to her in a bottle for the next three days until we tried some Mandela nipple shields and she FINALLY latched onto me. That feeling I can still remember now, I cried such happy tears. 


By the time Nina was 11 days old we didn’t need to give bottle top ups any more and we could really focus on our breastfeeding journey, perfecting our latch and enjoying this precious time. 


Nina used the nipple shields until she was 9 weeks old. I kept trying her every now and then without them but as I have quite flat nipples she struggle to get her little mouth around them, so my guess is that once she was older her mouth got bigger and she was able to take a deeper latch from me without the shield. One day I tried her without, and she latched to my amazement, we had gotten so used to using it that I really didn’t think it would ever change. Her latch wasn’t great but she was definitely trying. From then on I took two days of not leaving the house and really helping Nina to figure this one out, a lot of nipple cream was involved but we finally got there. I was so proud of us! 


All was going so amazingly, I absolutely love breastfeeding and the bond it gives us. It’s so easy to feed out and about, not needing to make bottles up in the night or to cart the kit around with you all the time. However all of the sudden around 4 months, we were hit by a massive brick wall sign posted “teething”!!!! 


All of a sudden we had arched backs, pushing away, screaming, laughing and recently biting!! Most of the time I can calm her by singing her favourite songs and patting her bum. However Nina does go on quite a few nursing strikes and has probably done around 3 big ones in the last 5 months. Every time I pull my hair out, every time I push both of our patients to the limit as the stress of her not feeding consumes me. Our most recent feeding strike happened 2 weeks ago, at around 9 months. We went on holiday to a caravan, I stupidly did not take my breast pump or any bottles with me. And in this week Nina learnt to crawl (backwards) sit up from lying down, pull herself up using furniture and wave, along with being away from home over night for the first time her little brain went into over drive and she point blank refused to nurse. She went from 4 good feeds a day to some days only having 2 small feeds. I was so stressed by the situation that I kept trying to make her feed but they are so right in what they say “you can’t force a breastfed baby to feed!”. By the time we got home she still wasn’t feeding. I ended up calling a breastfeeding helpline as i was so distraught in the thought of her no longer nursing any more! I wasn’t ready to give in. Following their advice I spent the next morning completely topless and it worked an absolute treat! She fed four times before midday! And now I think she feeds better than before we went away. 


I can’t in any way say our breastfeeding journey has been easy, and I won’t lie to anyone and say it has. But it has been so so worth it. To know the milk she is getting is practically magic, tailored to her every need. It’s on demand to whenever she wants it, and as quickly as it takes to get my boob out. She is immune to nearly everything I am, and gets so many nutrients that a bottle of formula couldn’t never even fractionally compete with. 


I will feed nina for however long she needs it, and I will continue to feed every child I have in the future. I should have listening to my mum! 


For all you new breastfeeding mamas out there, it’s going to be a tough journey, but my god it’s the most rewarding thing you will ever do. Enjoy those cuddles and soak in that oxytocin feeling the whole experience gives you. You will literally feel like your heart is going to jump out of your boobies!! 


Little Sunday Story time Peach By Nat

From the second I decided I wanted to have a baby I knew I was going to breastfeed. I was obsessed with breastfeeding throughout my entire pregnancy.  I would watch YouTube videos about proper latch, positioning and tips on bringing in your milk until 4am.  My husband would even tell me, “Babe, you’ll be fine…you don’t have to worry so much.  When we get to the hospital the Lactation Consultant will be there to help, but you’re totally going to get it right away.” Oh, how I wish he was right…instead I had nothing but issues and struggled so much in those first few days and weeks.

For most women, a proper breastfeeding relationship is extremely difficult to establish. There are a lot of different factors to getting it right and it can be extremely overwhelming for a new Mama.  You’ll have to learn how to latch your baby on properly, how to listen and watch for hunger cues, and you’ll stress and stress about your milk production until you’re blue in the face.

For me, establishing a breastfeeding relationship was nearly impossible and I went through hell and back to successfully breastfeed my daughter. I have a mild case of Mammary Hypoplasia, which caused me to make little to no milk for the first week of my baby’s life. Mammary Hypoplasia, also known as insufficient glandular tissue is a very uncommon condition that can cause low or no milk production. Women with mammary hypoplasia simply did not develop proper mammary tissue during adolescence, which can make pumping very difficult as well.  We also don’t have many breast changes during pregnancy, for example my boobs pretty much stayed the same aside of from becoming a bit swollen towards the end.




I was in the OR being stitched up from my unplanned c-section when the time finally came for me to breastfeed my daughter for the first time. She laid on my chest quietly.  She didn’t do that instinctual little baby crawl to the breast, she didn’t open her mouth wide searching for my nipple…she just laid there, perfectly content with soaking up my warmth but not putting forth any effort to nurse.  I was assured some babies take a little longer to initiate breastfeeding and to continue with skin-to-skin contact because it would entice her to nurse. We tried again when I was taken to the recovery room but every time she would latch she would fall off within seconds and we had to start again.  It was disheartening to say the least; she wanted to nurse so badly but had no idea how to stay attached to my breast so she would cry and cry and cry.

When I met with the lactation consultant she taught me how to properly latch my daughter onto my breast and what to do if she fell off. She taught me how to hold her so that my incision wouldn’t sting and taught me how to look for cues that would let me know when she was ready to nurse again.  She taught me all of these vital skills with a worried look on her face…I knew something wasn’t right; she was keeping something from me and I wanted to know what it was.  Before I could ask her if there was something wrong with me, a reason why my daughter was having such a tough time nursing, she latched beautifully and I successfully breastfed her for the first time in 12 hours.  I was so overwhelmed with joy that I forgot about all the issues we faced before and I was just present in this magical moment I worked so hard for.  The lactation consultant left the room and I peacefully nursed Delilah for an hour straight. I was starting to feel like I could actually do this, like we finally figured it all out and everything was going to work out for us.

Breastmilk is the best first food for a baby, the most nutritional food ever created and I wanted my daughter to benefit from that.


Hours went by and all Delilah did was cry.  I was latching her on the way I was taught, before she even gave me hunger cues.  I could see her jaw moving the way it’s supposed to when they have a proper latch, so I knew I was doing that part right…but I could tell my daughter wasn’t getting enough milk.  Every time they weighed her she dropped weight, so much so that they started talking about supplementing her with formula.  I adamantly declined and refused the formula, not because I think formula is wrong, but because it was not the path I wanted to take with my daughter.  Breastmilk is the best first food for a baby, the most nutritional food ever created and I wanted my daughter to benefit from that.  So I continued to breastfeed until they sent the lactation consultant back in to speak with me.  With a heavy heart she told me that I had Mammary Hypoplasia, that she knew it from the second she saw my breasts.  “Your breasts have a wide gap in between them and your nipples point downwards. Pair that with your low milk supply and you are the poster-child for this condition” she said.  “It’s time for us to start supplementing with formula, your daughter is losing far too much weight and she could really suffer if we continue down this path.  Yes, breast is best…but unfed is dead.” Those words resonated with me every single time I offered her a bottle.  I could hear them in the back of my mind as I watched my perfect daughter chug down that formula like she had never eaten before in her life…because she hadn’t.  I wasn’t producing at all.  No Colostrum, no nothing.  Every time my daughter latched she was sucking on air, the poor thing was starving and I had no idea.

“It’s time for us to start supplementing with formula, your daughter is losing far too much weight and she could really suffer if we continue down this path.  Yes, breast is best…but unfed is dead.”

I did everything in my power to bring my milk in as quickly as possible so that I could breastfeed my baby and stop supplementing.  A lot of women with this condition aren’t able to breastfeed at all, unfortunately so I was working against the odds but I was determined.  I latched her on every hour, sometimes sooner if she gave me hunger cues.

If she wasn’t latched I was pumping and in between all I did was cry. My nipples were sore, cracked and bleeding, my incision hurt like crazy and I was so upset because I was told in the hospital that I my body may never make enough milk to sustain her and I may need to supplement with formula throughout our entire breastfeeding relationship. Pumping was such a painful experience for me; because of my condition I have very little tissue around my nipple, causing 80% of the skin around my areola to pull into the flange with each suction of the pump. I bought the smallest size flange on the market, I used coconut oil to lubricate my breasts while pumping, I tried to hold the skin so it wouldn’t be pulled in…Nothing worked and every second was excruciating but I kept going.  By the third day I finally saw the smallest amount of milk in the bottles!  My milk had come in and I dropped the bottle feeds right then and there.  I nursed around the clock and kept my pumping routine strong and from that day on my daughter was exclusively breastfed.  All of my efforts had paid off and a few months later I even gave up on pumping! It was excruciating and my daughter hated bottles, she preferred her milk from the tap so I ditched the pump and never looked back.

I have officially been breastfeeding my baby straight from my breasts with no supplementation for thirteen glorious months.  It was the most difficult thing I have ever done, I worked my ass off to get here. I cried, considered quitting, and broke down more times than I’d like to admit but I am stronger for it. Every painful second was worth it because the bond I have with my child is unlike anything I have ever experienced and I know she is benefitting from nature’s perfect first food. I truly love breastfeeding this little girl and I see no end in sight.

Breastfeeding is difficult, frustrating and so, so demanding…but it’s also the most beautiful, magical, and truly amazing thing you will do in your life.  So hang in there mama because YOU GOT THIS.

Little Sunday Story Time Peach by Jen

I have always wanted to breastfeed and naively thought it would come naturally. I gave birth to my daughter in hospital 9 days early. When I went in I was told I wasn’t in active labour at only 2cm dilated. In 2 hours I went from 2cm to fully dilated and just 20 minutes after that my daughter was born. This could be one of the reasons for some of our struggles as the quick exit may have compressed her jaw slightly. This however is only one of quite a few contributing factors. The first latch passed in a bit of a happy blur as I gazed down at my tiny child. I will never forget the next one though and the days after that. I just couldn’t get comfortable and nor could she. My boobs felt massive and her tiny mouth just couldn’t seem to open wide enough. I was made to change position several times but nothing seemed to work and it hurt, boy did it hurt. I kept reading that if it hurt we weren’t doing it right. This made me feel like a failure. Why couldn’t I do it? I must have watched so many YouTube videos on how to latch in those early days, getting more and more anxious. 

Her nappies started showing signs of dehydration. All I wanted to do was escape the hospital but rightly, I couldn’t leave until she was hydrated. This put even more pressure on me to get it right. I am thankful to the hospital as they never once pressured me to give her a bottle. Instead they supported us through syringing the colostrum from my nipple to give to her (you should have seen my husband’s face when asked to do this!) followed by pumping and feeding her from a tiny cup. There needed to be a certain number of clear nappies to ensure she was safe and we could leave. Sometimes there would be a clear nappy and our hopes would rise, only to be followed by signs of dehydration in the next. I felt like I was failing my baby and on top of the new mum anxiety I had anyway, these times weren’t the happy times I had hoped for.

Finally, we had a run of clear nappies and could leave the hospital. It had only been three days but it felt like forever. I was so happy to get my little family home but little did I know our feeding difficulties were only just beginning. I had midwives visiting me most days for over a week trying to help me latch. The first day I sat in bed topless whilst a midwife latched her over and over trying to get her on. She finally showed me the rugby hold, a position we hadn’t tried in the hospital and while I still felt pain, she was feeding and seemed to be satisfied which for now was a huge relief. I still felt awkward and uncomfortable in this position and had to have her propped up with cushions but it was a start. I should mention that the hospital and midwives checked her for tongue tie and felt there wasn’t one. 

Over the next two weeks, things didn’t get much better. My husband had to go back to work after a week and on his second day back had a hysterical me on the phone to him. The pain was getting too much and I dreaded every feed. The one saving grace was that my milk came in, there seemed to be loads and she loved it. Nappies were plentiful and she was growing. In fact despite all that dehydration, at first weigh in she had lost none of her birth weight. My baby was thriving and so the issues were all mine. I told myself therefore that I was a grown women and I could take the pain if she was ok. I am very stubborn and think I drove many family members a bit mad during this time. I couldn’t bring myself to give her a bottle this early on as I wanted this so much. I fell into a rhythm where during the days I gritted my teeth, set my face and got through it. The evenings were a bit more of a struggle with cluster feeding marathons leaving my nipples in shreds but the nights, oh they were another level. I was anxious and tense so it made it worse, she was sleepy and therefore her already terrible latch became worse, I became a sobbing mess. My husband sat up, whilst holding down a full time job with a long commute, holding my hand, massaging my shoulders, whispering words of encouragement. We had almost hit the two week mark when I hit rock bottom culminating in my daughter projectile vomiting blood over the bed. Initial fear for her health was replaced with the realisation that this had come from my nipples. I gave in and my husband reached for a bottle. This was when we realised our baby is as stubborn as her mother as she clamped her mouth shut every time it came near and proceeded to scream and scream until I put her back to the breast. Now, I am so glad she did. Back then, I had never felt so trapped. 

By now, I had a health visitor who quickly put me in touch with the Breastfeeding Support team. I now realise we are lucky to have this in our area as funding issues mean not every area does. They asked me to attend a breastfeeding session and a brilliant friend of mine took the day off work to come with me. It was in a library and it felt very odd in these early days to get my boobs out so the lady could have a look. She instantly identified that my daughter had a posterior tongue tie. I don’t blame the hospital and community midwives for missing this, I understand posterior ones are harder to diagnose but I do think they need far better training. I had spent two weeks in agony thinking this was my fault and in an instant the breastfeeding support team found the main issue. We went that weekend privately to have the tongue tie procedure. I couldn’t wait for the NHS where I was told there was a six week wait. To cut a very long story short, I did not feel an improvement and a few weeks later, the breastfeeding support team came back and established it had reattached. Off we went for a second procedure, knowing this was our last shot. 

For many people this procedure solves everything and they feel almost instant relief. For others, it may take a little time. Sadly for me, things didn’t really improve and I began to lose hope yet again. The health visitor also recommended osteopathy which we went to every week for a while. This was where they found her tight jaw and worked to free that up. I decided to stop putting all my hopes on these external procedures and instead focused on my own mental strength. I set myself mini goals, telling myself just to get to six weeks, then to eight and so on. A friend of mine told me it improved greatly for her at three months so that was my next goal. In the meantime I was tested for thrush and mastitis and began a course of antibiotics. I began to get severe shooting pains in my breasts especially in cold air so had to wear heat pads and dip my breasts before each feed. I attended a breast clinic to check there was nothing more untoward going on and had scans and some of the worst lumps syringed away. Fortunately there was nothing found and I continued on with my internal battle. I began pumping after the six week mark and daddy attempted the bottle again. Hearing her scream through every feed broke my heart and I eventually put a stop to it. I could do this on my own, I had got this far hadn’t I?!

There were other issues too, some mucus filled nappies causing a dairy elimination diet for a while and oversupply issues causing her to gag but again we overcame them all. Three months came and I was still in pain but I suddenly realised I had stopped crying and I could do the cradle hold. I didn’t need a pillow constantly there to rest her on and I didn’t dread every feed. Slowly, slowly the pain receded. I came to realise she had just needed to relearn how to feed without constriction, her tiny mouth needed to grow and I needed to relax. Together we took this journey and together we made it out the other side. I couldn’t have done it without the support of my family and closest friends, particularly my husband who has been with me every step of the way, nurturing me and keeping me afloat. I am so thankful to my health visitor for her words of support and to the Breastfeeding Support team. Maria of littlepeachlondon has also been and continues to be an inspiration, I only wish I had found her sooner in my journey but her words now help me through the challenges of teething and a baby who most definitely prefers breastmilk to solids. 

On Sunday I reached twelve whole months breastfeeding, during World Breastfeeding Week and think it is just about the thing I am most proud of myself for. It has been a long difficult journey to get to today but the bond we share, the moments we have while nursing and knowing I did everything I could to give my daughter the best possible start, make up for all the difficult moments. I would never ever judge someone who chose the bottle from the start, or someone who gave it a go and didn’t feel able to continue. Fed is most certainly best and being a happy mum is most important. I am not ashamed however to share my journey and feel proud of what I have done and the lengths I went to, to achieve this. I hope one day to show my daughter this and have her realise how much her mummy loves her. 

For anyone struggling, seek support, reach out, do whatever is best for your family and don’t let anyone tell you what you are doing is wrong, whether that be breast or bottle. You got this mama!


Little Sunday Story Time Peach by Irmina

Since 7 years ago, breastfeeding makes part of my daily life. Breastfeeding on demand, prolonged breastfeeding, breastfeeding in tandem. They all came naturally and in response to the needs of my children that I slowly learned to decipher. I confess that the last, until recently, was not my choice, it simply happened. At first, I was tabula rasa. There was only a will and, step by step, a discovery of the practicality. But I was not warned about the pain caused by a wrong latch, milk cobblestones or despairing moments when milk seems to be insufficient. I carried a lot of prejudice in my head, and an immense insecurity ruled my steps. I had no idea of the number of pitches I would hear along this milky way and I could not even imagine for how many women trying and not being able to breastfeed was a painful affair. This world opened up gradually and with it grew self-confidence and understanding of the other.

Nowadays, breastfeeding is for me a vital issue for the body and soul of my little ones. I believe that because it is natural, the act does not need nor should not be glamorized or used to differentiate the mothers. The daily difficulties we encounter in this liquid journey should not be a secret, but it is important to remember that the process is difficult and often painful because of all the social dynamics we have arrived to in the XXI century: excessive workload, inadequate maternity leave, lack of the supporting networks, social devaluation of the act of breastfeeding, hygiene of the care, maternal solitude, among others. When we isolate all of this and focus on the beauty of the act, free of physical and emotional stress, we achieve the fullness of what the breastfeeding experience really deserves.

This photo (number1) was taken 2 days after I gave birth to my third daughter. The presence of my second child that still sucking and the placenta that had not yet come off is a gift and not a problem. 


Little Sunday Story Time Peach by Holly

I had a really difficult start to breastfeeding and there were so many times that I thought  I was gonna have to give it up. I spent an extra day in the hospital when my son was first born due to many feeding issues, he had a good latch yet my breasts were covered in bruises and bleeding and I suffered from a massive swelling in my arm pit due to blocked milk ducts, after seeing multiple midwives, two doctors and a breastfeeding specialist, I was finally given nipple shields, which I thought would be the fix for everything. After a week of being home and many visits and phone calls from more breastfeeding specialists, I felt confident that everything was finally solved but then I had to face the issue that I just wasn't producing enough milk for my son and he wasn't gaining any weight. I spent the second week barely sleeping due to almost constant feeding and pumping, neither of which seemed to help much though. By the third week I was exhausted and felt like a failure and after lots of thought and discussion about my sons weight and health and the pressure this was putting on me, I had to make the heart breaking decision to both formula feed and breastfeed. I  know that formula is fine for my son and that this was the best decision, at least until my milk supply increases but I still felt like such a failure when I gave him that first bottle. I am so thankful for the breast feeding specialists and there support and reassurance because if it wasn't for them, I would have probably felt worse for a lot longer. My son is now six weeks and we still have a long way to go with breastfeeding but I already feel like Its been such a massive and eventful journey already. 

Little Sunday Story Time Peach by Nicole

I had heard all the horror stories about cracked nipples, blocked ducts, mastitis, bleeding nipples, no sleep, people reacting negatively to breastfeeding and a friend had a baby who turned blue and passed out when he breastfed! 

So, after all that I was scared about breastfeeding and 90% certain I would formula feed. The only reason I attempted it was I had been told about the benefits of even just a bit of colostrum and my mother was really pushing boobing so I felt I did have to give it a go, however hubby and I had discussed that if it was hard in any way, we would formula feed. I had bottles, a steriliser, bottle warmer etc ready. 

It looked originally like breastfeeding but wasn’t going to work as my little Peanut didn’t want to feed and objected greatly to being woken up for feeds. She dropped 11oz down to 6lbs and became jaundiced so we were re-admitted to hospital when she was 36hours old. At that point, we bought bottles, a steriliser, bottle warmer etc so that I could begin formula feeding when we left hospital. I felt I would be judged negatively if I formula fed in hospital so didn’t dare! 

3 days after she was born, my milk came in and Peanut loved it and couldn’t get enough of it! She was feeding every 2 hours, for 30-40mins at a time! By the time she was 7 days old, Peanut’s jaundice was low enough of to be properly discharged again as long as I kept up the 2-hourly feeds, which I did for 6 weeks. Peanut went from the 9th to the 25th centile and I was confident feeding her in public - including at the Safari Park! 

It was so easy as well, my milk was always ready, always at the right temperature and I didn’t have to get out of bed for the night feeds. I love the bond we have and how boobs fix everything!


Little Sunday Story Time Peach written by a Mama that wants to remain anonymous

This is my husband is an only child. His father passed away from brain trauma two years ago, it was short and sudden battle. We were not prepared. But then my husband's mother, my mother in law, moved in with us. And one month later I became pregnant, with our first child. Which was ironic because I was waiting for the perfect time to have a baby. I was lucky enough to get pregnant as soon as I started trying. But I wasn't expecting to have my mother in law live with me, my entire pregnancy and post birth.

During my pregnancy I spent a lot of time consoling an inconsolable woman. Partially because I wanted her to help and partly because I wanted her to move on and move out! Sorry to say. But it is difficult living with a parent, especially one who is not your own. She did things differently to me and I found it difficult sharing my private space. She would walk into our house, she had a key. She would never say she was coming round. She would invite people over. She never really helped. She was a lovely lady, don't get me wrong. But she was going through a hard time and I couldn't exactly complain about her bad habits. My husband stood by my side, because he's a good man. But also because he was conscious of my feelings affecting our unborn child! I struggled to enjoy my pregnancy until a month before I gave birth she moved out. And I made the nursery I had planned for. Then I gave birth and she decided to come back to "help" us. She didn't really help at all. And this is where breastfeeding became my thing. 

I didn't really think much about breastfeeding before I gave birth. I had the dream birth - basically a hypnobirthing dream. But breastfeeding was painful, worse than labour. I had oversupply of milk, plugged ducts, mastitis, blisters and thrush all in the space of three months. I battled with breastfeeding. I kept fighting, determined to make it work. All the while being told by my mother in law - give her a bottle, so we can help i.e. I could get a chance to cook and clean and she could have fun with the baby. To this day she doesn't understand that when the baby wants to sleep you can't play with her. Anyway she wanted to take part in the fun stuff. My breastfeeding meant the baby had to come back to me. That's why I continued breastfeeding because I felt threatened and breastfeeding protected me. Even though I wanted to do it from the start, I was passionate about it and I read up on all the misconceptions. I called the helplines at least 20 times, I had a lactation consultant come round many times. I kept going and I think subconsciously I knew that no one could ever take my baby away, if I breastfed. 

We're at the six months mark now. I don't feel as threatened but I keep any bottles out of grandmas sight (baby drinks expressed milk from a bottle sometimes). I don't want her to know there are other options. My milk only, because I want her to come back to me. I've spoken to a counsellor about my anxiety issues. But now I've come to a point where I no longer feel as threatened and I've spent so much time pushing myself emotionally and not giving myself a break that I realised...I don't enjoy breastfeeding, the way some women do. 

I want to talk about it because I don't want women who WANT to breastfeed but don't ENJOY it all the time to be shunned. I recently spoke to one of the top lactation consultants in Sussex about how my baby wouldn't feed outside and it was giving me so much anxiety. Because she wasnt getting milk and expressing milk took a long time. She was getting so distracted. She said to me give her water. She wouldn't utter the word bottle. But what I noticed is she wasn't listening to me. I was telling her it's stressing me out and she was so blinded by her agenda that she couldn't hear what I was really saying. In that moment I was saying I hate this, I want to stop, I feel depressed but I feel bad. Help me to feel better. Give me a break. Cut me some slack. Stop making me feel awful. Tell me its OK to stop. Even though I won't stop but I want to hear it. 

I see people talking about breast is best, gold liquid and platinum breasts and I want to remind you that breastfeeding is not a competition. It's not something we should pressure women to do. We need to acknowledge that for some women, breastfeeding is a struggle emotionally and physically, because breastfeeding hard. There is research that shows that for women who already have low levels of anxiety and depression - breastfeeding does not elevate their mood. The way it does with women who don't have an oxytocin imbalance. 

Therefore I suggest that women are encouraged to give expressed bottles so that women have the option of a bottle. They should be taught how to do this without affecting breastfeeding, not scaremongered. Like my friend who needs to go back to work, in a month, 
and her son is exclusively breastfed and she has no way of putting him to sleep without her being there. And that women are encouraged to breastfeed exclusively for six months and then if they decide they no longer want to breastfeed they can either do combination or formula feed. This doesn't make them any less, or a bronze, breastfeeding mum. This makes them a platinum mum - just like a woman who can breastfeed for a year or two. They did the best that they could, with what they had, where they are. Let's be reasonable. Let's not make a woman feel like the longer the better. Yes it gets easier with solids being introduced and with setting a bedtime routine. But some things stay the same. You can't gave a night out because if baby us awake whose going to put them back to sleep?! Let's be honest. 

I could give her formula now and I am really trying to stop myself. It's not poison but I feel like I have milk. But I would consider it at some point in the next weeks and I would like a lactation consultant to tell me its OK and well done. We should celebrate the end of any breastfeeding journey. And that's the thing I don't want it to end. But I want to be taught how to give her the odd bottle of formula and give myself a break (as selfish as that might sound to some pro breastfeeding groups) and be taught how to maintain my supply for at least a year or however long I can. I would like more support and I would like to not feel guilty. 

Really I think we need to stop sugar coating breastfeeding and making it sound like it's always the best thing. What is the point of breastfeeding if you feel depressed or anxious? I want women to acknowledge how hard it is, how lonely it can be. When you're stuck in a room and feeing for four hours straight during a growth spurt. When all your other 20 something year old friends are out having fun, going out without their children, sending you photos and you're stuck at home. When you go online and look at mums and judge whether they are BF based on their clothes and makeup. Because you know BF mums get less time and occasionally less sleep. Because if you're not co sleeping and you don't want to you may get less sleep. And your baby will fall asleep on you during nap time and so you won't get time to get dolled up. Let's talk about the reality so women know it's OK to feel this way. A friend I made at a class told me recently that she felt so anxious and tired from breastfeeding, she had to go seek help. It shouldn't be that way. 

Breastfeeding is great from a health perspective but it can be emotionally draining. I want to continue but I want someone to tell me how to enjoy it more. Because I have spent six months feeding and feeling rubbish. Yes I have a stressful situation but I do feel BF babies depend on us more. I write this as my daughter is feeding to sleep. I know she fell asleep twenty minutes ago but she hasn't come off yet. And I really want to take off my contacts and go and watch telly and sit in peace.

You may not agree with everything I've said or any of it but please respect this is my journey and its been a tough one. Thank you. 

Little Sunday Story Time Peach by Shannon

Even before I fell pregnant, before I'd even met my husband in fact, whenever I thought about my family and having babies, I just knew I would breastfeed. It was never a question, I never considered any other option. I knew that my body would produce milk especially tailored for my baby and I assumed that breastfeeding would just come naturally.


So on February 16th, 2017, when the little love of my life was born and he didn't drag himself up my chest and latch on perfectly the way I had been shown in the antenatal class video, I panicked. They focused so little on what happens after birth; all I did see was that babies will instinctively breast crawl, latch on, and ba-da-bing ba-da-boom, you're a breastfeeding mum... But it's not that simple for most people. Although Logan did latch eventually, not that long after birth really, I was told "he's latched perfectly" by numberous midwives. But my nipples became sore and cracked, they looked blistered, feeding Logan was painful enough that I cried through most feeds. Sometimes, we'd struggle to get a deep latch, or a latch at all. The midwives visiting our home weren't concerned and they didn't take me too seriously because "he looks like he is latched well" and they said it was absolutely normal for the soreness to be there, and that was that. I convinced myself I was just a worried first-time mother who was being silly over nothing. And for a short time after being dismissed from the midwives' care, things did seem to improve.


After about a month though, it started getting more and more difficult. Logan would scream and cry whenever I put him to my breast, even though he clearly wanted to latch on and feed, it could take anywhere between 5 minutes and 1.5 hours to get him to calm down and get a decent latch. Once he had latched, he would stay on for no more than 30 seconds before coming off and starting all over again. This would happen a few times at least before he'd finally settle on the boob, and if you walked in at that point, you'd have no idea what struggle had just taken place. He looked content, happy. It was heartbreaking because he obviously wanted my breast milk, he wanted to be on the breast, but for some reason he just couldn't. He was struggling and despite my best efforts, I wasn't able to magically make it happen.


Throughout the next 1-2 months I visited multiple breastfeeding clinics around Sussex, spoke to as many health visitors as I could get in contact with, visited the doctors, went to all my local weighing clinics to talk to midwives and health visitors there, but no-one was giving me the help I needed. "It's a leap, it's a phase, you need to try this position or that position, you're just tired, work on the latch, maybe your supply isn't good... Pump and bottle feed, give him formula instead, give him a dummy, he's not really hungry... I was ignored because Logan was gaining weight, wetting his nappies, and otherwise he was clinically well.


One day, Logan started point blank refusing the boob, he wasn't feeding at all and nothing I did could convince him. He stopped wetting his nappies and I knew that meant he was dehydrating. We called 111 and was told to get to the Royal Alexandra Children's Hospital in Brighton. We did, and he had some routine checks and we were told he's fine and we could leave, but I refused. He clearly wasn't fine. I asked for a pump so I could relieve my breasts which  were rock hard and painful to touch. The nurse left the room and returned with a bottle of formula. I balled my eyes out. I didn't want to do it, I refused. My heart has always been set on breastfeeding, and I absolutely was not prepared to give up, I just couldn't. The nurse was less than sympathetic, she made me feel like I was just being silly. She tried convincing me that it was for the best that I give him the formula, "you can always try to breastfeed again at a later date. Maybe you can combination feed." NO. It was not going to happen. I emptied my breasts and continued offering them to Logan. 


We ended up staying the night, he had some blood taken, and we were again told that he's fine. After a night of regular check ups, I asked the nurses if Logan could be checked for tongue-tie. They didn't and we left. Our battle continued.


I eventually couldn't take going to clinics and being ignored anymore, so I did a bit of research and learned that the NHS doesn't routinely deal with tongue-ties in babies over 1 month old, but I found one hospital that would. I went to the doctor and asked him to refer me, and he LAUGHED at me. He told me I was being ridiculous. I left in tears, feeling humiliated and stupid.


I decided I had no choice but to pay for a breastfeeding counsellor. We were not in a position where spending that money was easy, it was a strain and we suffered for it, but in terms of breastfeeding, it was what we needed. The breastfeeding counsellor asked some questions, listened to my story, did a unbelievable quick assessment and confirmed my fears. Tongue-tie. She was unable to give an official diagnosis, but did refer me to a private clinic that dealt only with ties.


It cost a lot to get the appointment to have him assessed, and it took an hour and a half in the car to get to the clinic, but once there, his tongue-tie was confirmed. 80% posterior tongue-tie. Thankfully, once diagnosed, they were ready and able to get it sorted there and then. We were warned us that is usually takes 2 snips to release the tie, so I prepared myself for the crying and having to wait longer to comfort him. Everything was ready and it was time to cut it... There was an audible ping! It took one cut, and his tongue pinged free. I grabbed him and put him straight to my boobs to comfort him and stop the bleeding. The lady who cut it was surprised at the ping, in her many many years experience, she'd not had that before. 


We had to do some exercises/stretches multiple times a day for a couple of weeks to encourage movement and to prevent re-attachment.It was recommended that we do them 4 times a day, but I did them more than that as re-attachment scared the pants off of me! I did the stretches before most feeds for a few weeks. There wasn't an immediate improvement but it did start to improve slowly.


I also wondered if Logan was allergic to something coming through my milk, so I decided that one by one, I would eliminate an allergen from my own diet and see if that had any affect. I started with cow's milk... And thankfully didn't have to continue through my list. Cow's Milk Protein Allergy (CMPA)... Oh the joys! From then on, if I accidentally had something containing cow's milk, Logan would be in agony for a few days. He would scream and cry just like before, and it was heartbreaking to say the least. He would have very loose nappies, and his reflux would get really bad again. (I forgot to mention this earlier, it's one of our first ever problems that we could identify - reflux. Logan suffered terribly with it. Apparently, most babies grow out of reflux by 6 months... Logan was 11 months old before I noticed it disappearing. It would cause horrible pain for him. He slept on his tummy for as long as I can remember as it was the only way he could get any peace and sleep. On his back, he would arch in pain, struggle to fall asleep, and wake up countless times because of the pain.)


On top of those issues, I had another one that helped with none of those! Oversupply and heavy let-down... Logan would gag and splutter during every feed. My breasts produced more milk than he needed, and as soon as he latched on to feed, letdown happened almost immediately and it would spray out super quick. He struggled to keep up with the flow, but he tried his best. As he got older, he dealt with it better and now he's a pro. My supply has settled finally, but it took far longer than people suggested it would! 


So yeah, it took 3 months for us to figure out that all of these problems were problems. I'm just glad we did, even if it took so long. There were so many days I considered that I may have to quit breastfeeding, but I didn't, and I am so SO proud of myself for it. I found a strength and determination inside myself that I never knew was there. 


Breastfeeding is natural, but it doesn't always come naturally... Don't give up. I didn't. And here we are, Logan is nearly 17 months old and I see no end in sight for us.

Little Sunday story Time Peach by Hayley

My name is Hayley, and I’m a mummy to 3 scrummy boys!!

My first pregnancy was great. I went full term + 4 days. Unfortunately, my labour was very slow to progress and because baby was getting distressed, I ended up with an emergency c-section. I didn’t really know much about breastfeeding. I remember telling my Midwife I wanted ‘to try’. I found in hospital there was little support to help me breastfeed. I’d had an epidural, which they topped up for my c-section, so literally couldn’t move. The hospital staff ended up wheeling baby away and feeding him with formula. Back then (10 years ago now), partners weren’t allowed to stay with you, so my hubby was sent home about half an hour after I’d got back into the ward as visiting hours were over!! It was formula all the way from then!!

Due to my health, we waited another 8yrs before having another baby. During this pregnancy, my waters broke when I was just 24wks pregnant. I remember sitting in my hospital room being monitored and in absolute fear of going into labour. Every time colostrum started leaking I was sure that I was going to go into labour, that this was the start. I didn’t even know that your body could start to produce colostrum that early, let alone have it leak!!  I managed to hold onto baby for another 3 weeks and 5 days. I’d had a rather large bleed, so we were advised to call an ambulance. On the way to hospital I started to get some pains, but nothing like I hadn’t had before. In hospital, I was checked out & monitored. I wasn’t ‘in labour’, but was going to be kept in and transferred to the maternity ward. Within 3hrs of arriving at the hospital, baby arrived. It was the most frightening & horrific experience of my life! I only had a couple of really strong contractions that prompted us to call the midwife. When she came into the room and had a look, she could already see baby’s bottom!! The doctor was called and within about 10 minutes, baby was born and whisked straight away. We didn’t get to see him for another 6hrs. We had to wait for the NICU doctors to finish working on him before we could go and see him. One of the first things I was asked was how I had planned to feed baby. I hadn’t a clue. I was told of the benefits of breastmilk for premature babies tummies. So, I needed to start expressing!! The first time I expressed, I got the tiniest amount. I was so disappointed. I had these huge breasts - why weren’t they gushing out milk!! Every time I expressed, I tried to beat what I had done previously. If it was more, I was so happy, if it was less I was devastated!  Although I was encouraged to express every 2-3hrs, this didn’t always happen. Life got in the way. I didn’t want to leave my baby’s side, or I needed to eat, or I had to collect my other son from school, or be home to do some housework, or wait for the doctors round, or we were having cuddles (which I had to wait 2 weeks for!). It was very hard to get into a routine of expressing to start. It wasn’t like I had a baby there screaming for food. My baby was on a ventilator in an incubator, in his own little cocoon away from me. Getting into the NICU routine was tough. Setting my alarm overnight every 3hrs to express. Spending a minimum of half an hour each time hand expressing, it was tough. I felt useless. All of my expressed milk was kept at the hospital, in a little plastic basket with baby’s name on, in the fridge on the NICU ward, ready and waiting for when the doctors wanted to start feeding him via his NG tube. I think baby was 3 days old when he starting being fed. It was an amazing feeling!! But, a really scary one too as my milk hadn’t come in yet. You feel all of this extra pressure to supply more and more, the pressure of the little basket in the fridge becoming empty as you couldn’t keep up with the demand even though it was only 1-2mls every hour that he was being fed!  Once my milk arrived, I was shown how to use the hospital breast pumps. We hired one from the hospital to take home. We had a Milton tub for my breast cups in the Milk Kitchen at the hospital so I could express there when I needed. I’ll never forget the noise the breast pumps made. That constant humming. The way my nipples used to sting when I switched it on as they were so fragile. The sensation of my let down used to make me cry. They were tears full of relief that I had milk, sadness that it was all so mechanical, and pain where my breasts needed to get used to it. The competition I had with myself started again on a completely different level with the breast pump. Now I could fill bottles! It started with 20-30mls, then over a couple of weeks I was filling (sometimes over filling) 2 x 100ml bottles every time I expressed!! 
I was keen to breastfeed my baby. I knew just how important my milk was for his growth and development and I wanted to continue with that once we got home. When baby was still in intensive care, the doctors noticed that he had a sucking reflex. He must have been about 4wks old, but only around 31wks gestation. The nurses said we could put him to the breast. I remember that first time. I was the only mummy on the unit that morning. I’d stripped off my top half so we could get some skin to skin at the same time. Baby was propped up on pillows - light as a feather, but so delicate to hold. The nurses put a screen round us and it was the most perfect moment. It was as though time had stopped. Of course, baby didn’t really feed, but he tasted a little of my milk for the first time. From then on, we started to wash his mouth with breast milk, sometimes we’d do a dummy dip while he was being fed by NG. As much as possible, I would hold his little NG tube up while my milk was being syringed down - not conventional breastfeeding, but my milk, by my hand all the same. There was one stage where baby wasn’t putting on as much weight as the doctors would have liked, so we discussed our options - formula or a fortifier in my milk. I was devastated. Those first early weeks it is drummed into you that your milk is the absolute best, then all of a sudden, it was like I wasn’t enough. Was it my fault? Was my diet not good enough? Was I drinking enough water? What else could I do?? With the fortifier, his weight picked up. I was so pleased. But still heartbroken that I wasn’t enough. Fast forward a few more weeks and we were regularly putting baby to breast at every feed possible while he was being fed via NG. He needed to learn that his tummy was getting full while sucking at the breast. Then the decision needed to be made at how much milk do we put down his NG tube? How much milk did we think he was actually getting from me? This wasn’t a conventional breastfed baby. There was no on demand feeding here!! NICU life meant a routine of every 3-4hrs. It was a fine balance to get it right to make sure he had his full quota of milk for the day. When the time came for the ‘going home’ talks, I was allowed to demand feed during the hours that I was at the hospital. Juggling that with expressing was hard. Baby still needed milk when I wasn’t able to be with him. Overnight, the nurses had started to bottle feed him my milk as he needed to take full feeds before he could come home. Baby came home after spending 76 days in hospital, exclusively breastfeeding. I had to ‘room in’ overnight and feed baby exclusively for a while 24hrs, and he needed to have gained weight after it - and he did!! A whole 20g!! 
Once home, I continued to breastfeed. We’d been home about a month when I had another (my 3rd) lot of mastitis. I was broken. I was in pain. Without the extra support from the staff at the hospital, I made the heartbreaking decision to give him a bottle. It was expressed milk, as I had a huge stash in the freezer, but I felt like a failure. My husband and I decided that we would bottle feed him every other feed, so I was still breastfeeding as I did t want to give it up, but then hubby could also get involved and feed him using my milk from the freezer. I’d managed to express enough during baby’s time in NICU to give him only breast milk for the first 6 months. It took me a while to realise, but that was pretty amazing! When my stocks in the freezer were getting low, we started to add an ounce at a time of formula so that his tummy could get used to it. We gradually increased it until his bottle feeds were fully formula. Of course by this time we’d started weaning too, so I always made sure that his first and last feed of the day was from me. Our little bit of ‘us’ time. We carried this on until he was 13 months old. I think baby would have stopped sooner as it was getting increasingly difficult to feed him. I wanted to get past 12 months. The final time came when he bit me and made my nipple bleed!! 

I found out I was pregnant again when my 2nd child was nearly 16mths old. So many emotions were running through my head!! I was so happy, I was excited, scared... but we’d hoped, and had been reassured by the consultant, that my waters breaking early was a one off; it wouldn’t happen again! We had a few minor problems in my early pregnancy, but once we’d got to 28wks, we were past when last baby was born, we were happy. We could handle anything!! We had started to believe that we were going to go full term. I’d decided that I was going to breastfeed. With baby no3 I was going to do it all by myself!! But, at 33wks exactly, my waters went again. I wasn’t in any pain, so we took our time getting to the hospital. Once there, I was hooked up as I was contracting, but it was nothing major and they didn’t think I was going to go into full labour so they took the monitor off. Less than an hour later, the pains were getting worse so we called in a Midwife who put me back on the monitor. I remember watching the numbers - one for babies heart rate, the other to measure the strength of the contraction. Baby’s heart rate kept dipping, but I was told that baby had moved and it was picking up my heart, then when I was contracting, the number on the monitor wasn’t picking it up! I was fobbed off a bit saying that they weren’t monitoring my contractions, just baby. Then baby dipped again. My pains were getting worse. The room filled with people. A doctor scanning me looking for a heartbeat (it was very weak), midwives putting a cannula in my hand, shaving me, putting surgical stockings on me, explaining that they have to get baby out and I’m having a general anaesthetic. Once I had come round from the anaesthetic, hubby was by my side and I was handed 2 pictures of my little boy. He came out screaming and hadn’t needed any breathing support. He was in an incubator, but was doing everything on his own. I was keen to get round and see him. He was about 6hrs old when we went round, but I could hold him straight away. Again, all conversation turned to milk!! I needed to express. Full of confidence this time round, I knew the routine, I knew what I needed to do. I’d ring my buzzer from my hospital bed through the night to ask a nurse to take my milk round to NICU so they could feed him via his NG tube. This time round, having another baby in NICU, was a lot harder. There is something unsettling about knowing what can and what does happen. And now o had 2 children at home, one who wasn’t even 2, and they needed me. I was determined to get home with my baby quickly (plus I wanted to be home for Christmas!!). Once baby was strong enough, he was being put to the breast as often as possible, while having expressed milk through his NG tube. One day, I’d had childcare sorted so was able to spend the entire day at the hospital. The nurse suggested that we try not to give him any milk through his tube and see how he goes just breastfeeding. The boy did great!! The next morning when he was weighed, he had even gained weight!! As far as the nurses were concerned, baby had proved he could do it, so they were keen to get me rooming in so baby could come home. The doctors weren’t so convinced, but we all agreed that I could stay over for 2 nights that weekend to see how baby did. After the first full 24hrs of breastfeeding, baby gained weight - 40grams!!! I was then told that if baby gains weight the next day, we could go home... and he did!! After 27 days in hospital, baby came home fully breastfed. And here we are now, 7 1/2 months old and still breastfeeding. We even had a hospital admission for a week where we were back to square one and I had to start expressing again!!

I’m not gonna lie, it is by far, one of the hardest things I have ever done!! I still struggle everyday. Although this is baby no3, it feels like baby no1. I’m still learning how to breastfeed, learning that demand feeding doesn't work with the routine that I like in my life, learning that nothing is textbook when it comes to breastfeeding, still learning to be confident with feeding when we aren’t at home. As hard as it is, I am incredibly proud of what I have achieved. I didn’t get baby put straight to the breast, I didn’t get that first rush of love, that immediate bond, but one thing I am sure of is that breastfeeding has helped me feel close to my babies when we were kept apart in those early weeks.

I am so sorry if I have rambled on!!! Please feel free to extract the parts of the story that are relevant - I find it incredibly hard to give anyone the ‘short’ version!!! 

Thank you for your Instagram posts. They are amazing and give me lots of inspiration to carry on with my breastfeeding journey, especially when so many people have told me to ‘give him the bottle’. I found you on Instagram through a recommendation from a breastfeeding support group that I am a member of on Facebook. 

Big hugs xx

Little Sunday Story Time Peach by Portland

When I went into labor with my 3rd child, it was almost - at least it felt like - routine. I knew when it was time to go to the hospital, I knew what would happen when we arrived, I knew I would probably end up asking for the epidural, I knew that after birth a baby would be placed on my chest, I knew the first thing we would do was breastfeed, I knew my milk would come in, and I knew we would go home after a day or two. But the thing is, I really didn't know. 


Much of my labor and birth was actually normal. After a night and day of on again and off again labor, finally my contractions intensified around 2 pm in the afternoon, and by 5:30 pm our daughter was born. She was a couple weeks early, and just barely 6 pounds and when they rested Reese on my chest after delivery, everything was perfect. She latched readily and we just sat there in the delivery room and enjoyed her alert period.  I felt so comfortable back in the newborn routine for the third time, I was contemplating going home the next morning even and forgo the little hospital stay. We'd done this twice before and everything went fine. BUT I will be forever grateful for the doctor who changed my mind. The one who said, "You can stay another night, don't feel rushed to go home, get more rest, it will be good for you."


So we did. And that night, around midnight a nurse noticed Reese shaking and immediately notified us that she was displaying signs of low blood sugar.  It seemed like a small problem, but in an infant, low blood sugar can be life threatening. Since my milk had not come in yet, and our barely-6 pound-baby girl had little body fat to draw calories from, her brain was starving.  I was nervous, scared, devastated.  With my second baby my milk had come in full blown on Day 2 and I fully expected my body to be the same this time.  I began trying so hard to feed my little girl non-stop.  I kept her on my breast the rest of the night, just hoping she would get my milk in, and hoping she'd get the calories she needed. She didn't leave my chest, and I hardly slept.   


The next morning her blood sugar was still low, and the nurses suggested formula to get her more calories, which I initially refused.  I was so determined to strictly breastfeed, and not to confuse her with other nipples/pacifiers.  So I asked the nurses for other ways to keep her at my breast.  We tried SNS several times but after so long my baby would either fall asleep, or get so frustrated that we had to remove the tube.  Thinking back on this day, I am so grateful for nurses who worked with me to try and get Reese fed while still at my breast. 


Ultimately nothing I was trying really worked.  My baby needed calories to survive that I couldn't provide. At least not yet as my milk hadn't come in. So, when the doctor came that afternoon, he told me they would have to start a glucose IV and that meant she could no longer be with me in the room. They took her away and I sat alone in the room heartbroken... and defeated. 


The lactation consultant on duty that day helped me figure out a feeding routine. Reese would get fed exactly every three hours, that way they could monitor her glucose readings after each feed to make sure they could wean the IV eventually.  Together we decided that Reese would get formula for her first feed, and breastfeed after.  Then I would go pump what I could, and it would be used towards the next feed three hours later.  Reese's feeds would be made up with breastmilk+formula, then we would breastfeed after to make sure she got what she needed.  


After her first feed in the nursery I went back to my room to pump.... and I literally got a drop of mostly colostrum.  I cried.  But the lactation consultant reassured me it was normal... that it would come eventually.  During my next pump session, I got about 1 mL- one tiny syringe of milk.  Then the next session with some heat applied to my breasts with lil'buds and I got about 3ml. I was so determined. I took my initial defeat and turned it into determination.  And slowly I saw my body responding.  With every pump session I would get a little more, and a little more.  After about 12 hours, I was getting 6-10ml each pump session and slowly we were minimizing the formula supplement, and weaning the glucose IV!!   


After 3 long days of IV and pumping we were back to breastfeeding on demand and IV free and ready to go home. Those days were some of the most difficult days I have had, and I think of new mothers who have endured so much more than me and I utterly admire their strength.  Getting to the point where we could be discharged came with a huge struggle, so many tears, hardly any sleep, and so much hard work. When we finally went home, we continued to exclusively breastfeed for 17 months.  




The whole experience taught me so many important lessons.  The first is - everyone's milk comes in a different times.  If your body takes longer than 3-5 days then that's OK.  Don't think there is anything wrong with you - because there is not.  Trust your body and give it time and it will come as long as you keep up the demand.  Keep feeding or keep pumping, and it will come slower or faster than you might think.


The second lesson I learned is that every birth and breastfeeding experience is different no matter how many times you do it.  Every baby is different, and your body is different too.  You never really know what will happen when you give birth, but whether you are home with a midwife or in the hospital, know that you are in good hands and you will have support if you need it. 


The third lesson I learned is that supplementing with formula, when necessary, will not ruin your breastfeeding experience if you continue to pump for those formula feeds. I was so so scared to give my baby formula, because I thought she wouldn't re-latch at my breast.  But really, she was getting fed with the calories she needed, and I kept pumping to help my milk come in, and I kept her at my breast as much as I could that first week too. Even when you have a decrease in supply, for whatever reason, know that successful breastfeeding is not exclusive breastfeeding, and know that every drop you give is what matters most.  


Little Sunday Story Time Peach By Christina-Marie

Breastfeeding is the easiest thing in the world they said… 

And it is! Only after you have both figured out how to do it. Don't get me wrong. I love it now that we have the hang of it but there were a few hiccups along the way... 
It turns out there can be lots of problems. In breastfeeding class they talked us through how to get the perfect latch and what you can do before the baby comes and what to do if you don't have enough milk. But never was it mentioned that you can have TOO MUCH MILK or an overactive let down.

Our first encounter with book leakage was when I was 16 weeks pregnant and after a hormonal cry in bed I noticed a wet patch on my top in my boob area. " I think I dribbled" I blinked at my partner through my tears to. He smiled and pointed at my other boob. "On both sides?!" I quickly realised my colostrum was leaking. How embarrassing… From then on accidents happened more often and I decided to wear breast pads whenever out in public and in bed to avoid waking up with wet nighties. 

From then on it never occurred to me breastfeeding would be challenging as my boobs obviously seemed to know what to do. 

Once we had Rose it was different. Although she latched perfectly she choked a lot and my breastpads couldn’t keep up with the leakage from the other side. A midwife explained to me that I had an overactive let-down along with too much milk, so she recommended a feeding cup to pop in the other side of my bra when feeding. Thank you to whoever invented these glorious cups that would safe me from changing my breastpads what felt like 100 times a day. Often I had to empty them half way through a feed, but at least it saved us a lot of money. 

A few weeks in when we were out with other new mums I had to excuse myself to the bathroom to empty my feeding cup. So, I asked one of the other mums to hold my baby so I could pour the contents away. She was horrified! How could I be pouring this liquid gold down the drain? She had been to hospital for an extended period and had gotten to know that the local milk bank was desperate for breastmilk. I hadn't realised that premature babies, mothers of babies with mastectomies and babies who were in hospital in intensive care so desperately need real breastmilk with all its precious antibodies and nutrients to build their immune system in this vulnerable time. Unfortunately, technology hasn't managed to create a formula with all these vital ingredients.

So I called the local milk bank and after a quick blood check I became a milk donor. I express as and when it suits me. There are no obligations what so ever. I don't need to donate a certain amount or by a certain time. I express at my leisure. Personally, I pump once a day and/ or save the excess milk leakage caught by my breast milk cup, put it in the sterilised container the hospital provides me and freeze it until I meet with the breast milk collection lady from hospital. All I have to do is put it in a cooler bag with some ice packs and hand it over to her. It's so easy! They are in such desperate need of milk, my local collection lady even drives all the way to meet me in her free time to take it to hospital.

It feels great to know I am helping other babies out there. And my boobs feel better for it too!
I am writing this because I would like to spread the word. Hopefully together we can give more babies a great start on life with all that important nourishment they need so much in their first days and weeks of life!