Breastfeeding often feels like a taboo topic. The time and energy mothers devote to nursing, as well as the joys and hardships associated with it, are rarely—if ever—acknowledged. But we’re hoping to change that, one story at a time. In honor of breastfeeding mothers around the world, our Leaked series shares real stories from our community. Here, Charisa MacMath, a mom of two in Illinois shares about the hard-won confidence she found as she learned to trust herself and embrace the learning curve that came with breastfeeding her first baby.
It was the hottest part of summer, and I was in a rocking chair passed down from my great grandmother that my husband had positioned near the humming window A/C unit. My sweet 5-day-old son and I both in only our diapers.
My milk had just come in and we were sticky from the heat and the letdowns, a nipple shield that the lactation consultant had given me to help get him to latch was between us, and tears were running down both of our cheeks.
In that moment, I was certain it had never been that hard for anyone else before, because the only words I’d ever heard to describe this experience were, “natural,” and “beautiful.” I was heartbroken and dare I say a little humiliated that this was so hard for me—and exhausted. So exhausted. This is one of my earliest motherhood memories, and the start of my breastfeeding journey.
We collected ourselves to get to the pediatrician for his check up where I did my best to explain the struggles we’d had, our lack of sleep and how he wouldn’t latch. I was devastated when they put him on the scale and the pediatrician said we’d need to start waking and feeding every two hours, until he gained some weight back, because he’d lost too much. I was trying to grasp how it would even be feasible to wake up every two hours and try to do what felt impossible. The nurse brought in a pre-mixed bottle of formula and tried feeding it to our son without really asking us, and in our delirious and emotional states, we didn’t object. It was only after she’d fed him half the bottle and handed it to me that I saw it was expired—by over a year. Then, I was furious on top of all my fear and devastation. I don’t know how else to explain it, but this ignited something more primal in me—I knew in that moment I would and could do anything my child needed, and that as his mother, I would know what those things were, and I could trust myself.
When I called my mom crying that night, I told her I didn’t know how, but I was desperate to figure it out and deeply sad it didn’t feel natural and automatic. I’ll never forget what she told me— “He’s learning how to be new, and so are you.”
The next couple weeks would prove to me the tenacity we gain when we become mothers, and the miracle of the journey itself. With support from lactation consultants, other mothers, and the relentless encouragement from my husband, I found us working together—giving grace to a learning curve instead of condemning myself to failure. Every day we got up and tried again, took it one feed at a time, pumped when I needed to, cried when we felt it. Boppy pillows and nipple shields and Haaka’s and nursing pads and Body Armour hydration drinks always surrounding us in the rocking chair. Finally, there was a middle of the night latch without struggle, and the next day, a latch without a nipple shield. I will never forget the relief and the joy that washed over me in those moments, and the pride that swelled—we were doing it! It began to transition from an emotional and physical feat, to the sweetest, most intimate and cherished moments.
I knew in that moment I would and could do anything my child needed, and that as his mother, I would know what those things were, and I could trust myself.
At 20 months when we sat in the rocking chair to nurse before bedtime, after latching for only a second, my son sat up and signed, “all done,” and handed me a book to read, and it was the last time he would nurse.
I was pregnant with my second baby at the time, and overwhelmed with emotion and pride. We had figured it out together. We had learned together. Our breastfeeding journey was over, but I was about to do it again. I knew it probably wouldn’t look the same, but I had a new confidence, and belief in myself as a mother that I could and would always be capable of growing, stretching, and changing. Breastfeeding for me was a little bit of fumbling, a lot a bit of learning and pivoting, and every bit mothering.
As my friends have become mothers, I find it to be such an honor to be welcomed in to their fresh moments and that sitting with them in the moments of ‘learning,’ in a rocking chair, and sharing my experience, is far more comforting than any ‘advice,’ I could give on breastfeeding or mothering. I hope sharing my experience is a way to virtually sit with another mom learning how to be new.
