Learning Each Other: My First Days of Breastfeeding
I thought it would feel… instinctual.
I’d seen the photos — a serene mother, soft lighting, a quiet newborn nestled into her chest.
But our beginning didn’t look like that.
It looked like cracked nipples, missed latches, and me Googling “is this supposed to hurt?” at 2:14AM with one hand.
The first time she latched, it didn’t feel magical.
It felt… strange. New.
Like we were two strangers learning a dance with no music, no guide. Just guessing.
She sucked too hard.
I flinched.
She cried.
I cried more.
But then — little by little — we found each other.
I picked a spot.
A quiet corner in the room with the comfiest chair we had.
I added a pillow behind my back, a footstool under my feet, and my favorite nursing pillow in front.
I kept a soft muslin cloth draped nearby and always — always — a full water bottle within reach.
I made peace with the mess.
There was milk on my bra, on my shirt, sometimes dripping onto my belly like warm rain.
I switched to nursing tanks and reusable breast pads that didn’t make me feel like a walking paper towel.
I used nipple cream like lip balm — often and generously.
The moment I found a cooling gel pad that fit inside my bra, I almost cried with relief.
I tracked everything at first… then I stopped.
I downloaded an app. Timed every feed.
Right side: 7 minutes. Left side: 10.
But eventually, I closed the app and just listened to her.
She had a rhythm. I just hadn’t learned it yet.
I stopped trying to make it beautiful.
Some feeds happened in the dark, half-asleep.
Some happened in tears.
Some happened mid-walk, mid-sentence, mid-anything.
And slowly, something shifted:
Not the pain. Not yet.
But the connection.
She started looking up at me mid-feed.
Her fingers curled around mine.
And even though it was hard,
it was ours.
There was one night — my shirt stained, one breast leaking, the other sore —
She latched, sighed, and fell asleep still holding me.
I sat there in the quiet and thought:
“We did it again. One more feed. One more moment. One more thread between us.”
Breastfeeding didn’t come naturally to me.
But neither did motherhood.
And still — here we are.
Learning each other, day by day, drop by drop.