When someone tells me that they are enjoying breastfeeding, I often find myself at a loss for words. I am genuinely happy for them. A part of me is in awe, trying to wrap my head around what a positive experience must feel like. Another part is so jealous that it almost hurts.
"Lucky you," I've learned to say. And I mean it. Then, as I think about my own struggle to breastfeed my two children, my heart quickens, bringing me back to the mechanical rhythm of the breast pump that all but ruled my life for the first six months of each of theirs.
When I gave birth to my daughter Olivia in 2012, I was blown away by how complicated the supposedly simple process of feeding a new baby proved to be. Loving her was immediate, and the most natural thing in the world. But feeding her? Not even close.
Thanks to an attentive hospital team and a Birthing and Feeding class I'd taken before she was born, at first, things seemed to be going swimmingly. Olivia was a big baby, latched on pretty easily, and seemed entirely comfortable drinking in both the "cradle" and "football" positions I'd been taught in class.
"Look at you, Mama!" the hospital team cooed as they watched me watch my insatiable baby feed and feed and feed. "You're a natural."
I beamed with the pride that comes from being good at something. I hadn't been good at being pregnant. I'd been terrible at it. I'd felt like crap, complained constantly, eaten with abandon and gained 51 miserable pounds.
"Hard pregnancy, easy baby," I think I may have gloated to the nurses as they admired my milk-making know-how.
And then we brought Olivia home.
And all feeding hell broke loose.
Despite the fact that I spent nearly every waking minute with my daughter attached to my boob, Olivia began losing weight. Which is not a good thing for any new baby. To complicate matters, my own body began to feel more pain than it had felt during birth. The same day that our pediatrician informed us of Olivia's "major" weight loss and scheduled a consultation to see if she required a tongue-tie surgery, my boobs were hijacked by small, incredibly painful lumps -- my first of three bouts with Mastitis.
Once my situation leveled out, my new "normal" meant pumping milk up to eight times a day while trying to "naturally" breastfeed here and there to see if it might magically unclog my ducts and keep my hormone and milk supplies healthy. Don't get me started on the lactation consultants, nipple shields, nursing pillows, hospital-grade pumps, and "milk-making" cookies, teas and herbs I religiously turned to in my desperation. Or, as the months went by, all of the hallways, bathrooms, airport floors, cars and "pumping closets" I parked myself in when I needed to "take care of business."
Like many new moms, I joined a mothers group. Thank God, because it became an invaluable source of support and a sounding board for the shocking, painful and often terrifying things we all seemed to be experiencing between the amazing moments of witnessing the beginning of our little ones' early days. "Why doesn't anyone warn you about this stuff?" we asked each other again and again and again.
According to a recent UC Davis Medical study, three days after giving birth, 92 percent of new mothers said they were having problems breast-feeding. Knowledge is power. If I had heard about more of my friends' breastfeeding challenges before Olivia was born, I may have felt a little less frustrated by my own situation and been a little easier on myself when the road got rough. The positive parts of new motherhood need no introduction -- they are magical, incredible and utterly breath-taking. Breastfeeding, on the other hand, can be a really difficult journey with high physical and emotional stakes.
In honor of International Breastfeeding Awareness Week, if you've been through a pregnancy and know a mama-to-be, it may be worth taking a few minutes to give her your real scoop. Tell her about your favorite and least favorite parts. If you had a lactation consultant or nursing support group you loved, give her a name or phone number "just in case." Make her laugh as you recount the hilarious, wacky, wonderful, and disgusting places where you breastfed or pumped for your little one. In speaking your truth about what can be a very humbling experience for many moms, you may just be able to help one new mama be a little more prepared for the ride.
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Lauren Hirshfield Belden is a brand strategist, the co-found of Belden Barns Wine and the author of The Places You'll Feed!, a hilarious ode to breastfeeding and the perfect gift for new mothers and mamas-to-be. Lauren lives in San Francisco and Sonoma with her husband Nate and their two children, Olivia and Milo.