My Kids Are Asleep

I’d Rather Be a Happy Mother Than Breastfeed My Daughter

I hate breastfeeding. It’s true. I do. I wrote about my dislike for breastfeeding right after Miles was born. Consider this the second and final (if someday there’s a third installment, I’m sure I’ll love the baby but it was a mistake!) post in a series. 

If I’m being totally honest and very dramatic, I resent the actual milk in my breasts, just for existing. I find myself jealous of women who are unable to breastfeed for physical/health reasons. That’s not something I’ve said out loud, not even to my husband, and it’s something I’ve only just now admitted to myself.

There’s one influencer I follow on Instagram who had her breasts removed several years ago because she tested positive for the breast cancer gene. She had a baby a few months ago and, being an influencer, she’s documenting the experience online. She recently wrote a post about feeding her baby girl with formula, which is a necessity because she no longer has the parts in her breasts that produce milk. I read the post before Linnea was born, and found myself thinking, I wish I’d had my breasts removed. Writing that down, the sentence is shocking. In one way, OF COURSE I don’t wish I’d had my breasts removed — that would be traumatic and negative in so many ways. But… the fact that I had that thought is really telling of my state of mind. THAT’S how much I don’t like breastfeeding. I wanted a built-in excuse, a way of explaining my choice to formula feed while preemptively fending off judgement from others.

There have been a few other less dramatic experiences, too. An acquaintance didn’t breastfeed her three boys because her milk didn’t come in. A friend of a friend didn’t breastfeed her two babies because she has inverted nipples, which makes it very difficult. I’m jealous of them, too. I don’t know if they wish it were different, wish they were physically able to breastfeed, but I wish I were physically unable to.

I’m going to feed my baby girl breast milk for as long as I can, until it starts to really make me feel crazy and make me feel like my body is 100% not my own, then I’m going to switch to formula. 

I’m starting to make peace with that decision because I remember how mentally and physically hard it was for me to breastfeed (and pump breast milk) with Miles. I recently saw a meme that said something like, “I’m giving my son a happy and healthy mother instead of a sibling” and it made me feel all the feelings. I’ve never thought of being a mom that way and it makes absolute sense. It’s a way of saying that moms are important, too.

It gave me a new way to phrase my feelings about breastfeeding: “I’m giving my daughter a happy and healthy mother instead of breast milk.”