When It Hurt, I Stayed Anyway
(Common Challenges of Breastfeeding – as lived, not listed)
No one told me I might dread the moment she stirred.
That I’d hold my breath when she opened her mouth,
Not in awe — but in bracing for pain.
Breastfeeding hurt.
Not just physically — though the sting, the burn, the tug at cracked skin made me clench my fists.
It hurt in the space between what I thought it would be… and what it was.
The Latch That Didn’t Latch
We tried.
Laid-back, cross-cradle, side-lying.
Pillows, burp cloths, dim lights.
Still — she’d fumble, slip off, cry.
Then I’d cry too.
Sometimes I’d whisper:
“It’s okay… we’re learning.”
Other times, I’d snap:
“Just latch, please — I can’t do this again.”
And the guilt would crash in like a wave.
The Soreness That Lingered
I tried to air-dry.
Tried the balm.
Tried adjusting her position.
But the truth is, there were days I nursed her while biting my lip hard enough to leave a mark.
And when the left side was too raw, I’d feed only on the right, until that one begged for mercy too.
One evening, I caved and pulled out my breastpump
Just to relieve the pressure, not to store.
Even that felt like cheating.
But it gave me five hours of not wincing.
Five hours of peace.
That’s when I stopped punishing myself for doing whatever helped.
The Feeling of “I’m Not Enough”
There were days she fed every hour.
There were days she refused one side.
There were moments I thought:
“Is she getting anything at all?”
Everyone said: “Trust your body.”
But some days, my body felt empty.
Not magical. Not maternal. Just… tired.
So I reached for a soft nursing cover and left the house.
Not to breastfeed in public.
Just to sit on a park bench and be a mother outside the four walls where I’d cried so often.
I fed her there, under the rustle of trees.
And somehow, she latched.
Easily.
Like it wasn’t even hard.
I smiled so wide I scared a pigeon.
What I’ve Learned
Breastfeeding didn’t break me.
But it did remake me — into someone softer, slower, and strangely stronger.
So if you’re in it now — the pain, the doubts, the endless feeds —
Let me say what I wish someone had said to me:
You’re not failing.
You’re becoming.
Breastpump The gentle help I reached for when I needed a break without giving up. Quiet and quick.
Nursing Cover My soft shield for the days I needed space. Lightweight, breathable, and mine.