NAVIGATING THE BREASTFEEDING JOURNEY
Growing up, breastfeeding wasn’t part of the language or rhythm of my family. My mother, who immigrated to the United States, didn’t breastfeed. It was something I rarely saw — something quietly tucked away. Maybe even seen as “unnatural.” Wild, right?
That perception, shaped by Western norms and the pressures of modern life, stood in contrast to my Mexican heritage, where breastfeeding is a visible, natural, and deeply honored part of motherhood. But the disconnection lingered in me — and when it came time for me to mother, I had to find my way back to what was mine.
When I became pregnant with my first son, Giovanni, I was living in Santa Barbara. I met a mama who would become one of my closest friends — and who introduced me to the world of natural birth, homeschooling, and breastfeeding. Around that same time, a friend recommended The Business of Being Born, and something inside me cracked open. Even though I still carried uncertainty, I was curious. I found myself seeking out a local birth center, following a thread I didn’t fully understand but deeply felt.
Dad, Gio and Mama
However, my journey with Giovanni was far from easy.
I had flat nipples — something I didn’t even know was “a thing” — and it made latching difficult. We tried using a nipple shield, but it didn’t fully resolve the issues. Despite all my effort, nursing just wasn’t working. I ended up exclusively pumping for 5–6 months — which, if you know, you know. It was grueling.
Even after all the research, I wasn’t prepared for what my particular journey would look like. I remember the shock of my first engorgement — the pain and pressure of it — how overwhelming it felt to not know what was normal and what wasn’t. It felt like I was navigating uncharted waters with no map.
Eventually, I switched to formula. And I grieved. It felt like I had failed — even though I know now, I was doing the absolute best I could. That experience began to teach me about grace. About embracing my story, instead of trying to force it into a shape it wasn’t meant to take.
It was hard. And it showed me just how important it is to tell the whole truth about breastfeeding — not just the dreamy parts, but the sweat, tears, and tenderness it often takes. Applauding mothers for breastfeeding doesn’t take away from those who use formula — it simply honors the labor that goes into every single path.
Four and a half years later, when I had my second son, Noah, I was determined to try again. But things didn’t go smoothly this time either.
After an emergency c-section, I was physically depleted and emotionally frayed. I couldn’t get Noah to latch. He seemed colicky and distressed, and I felt like I was falling apart.
That’s when my dear friend and doula, Michelle, stepped in.
Mama and Noah + Michelle and Her Hubby in the back
Seeing how overwhelmed I was, she invited me to come stay at her house for a week — and promised me, “We’re going to get nursing down.” Her determination was both a lifeline and a challenge. She believed that if we could figure this out, it would bring relief and nourishment to both me and Noah.
At that point, I was worn thin — exhausted, vulnerable, and ready to give up. The last thing I wanted was to try again.
When Michelle brought in a lactation consultant, I was cracked open in every way — too tired to resist, too tender to say no. It was a moment of surrender. And, somehow, a turning point.
With their support, Noah finally latched.
It was a breakthrough I didn’t know could happen for me. Michelle’s push — though tough at the time — was exactly what I needed. She saw strength in me when I couldn’t see it myself. Because of her, I went on to nurse Noah for two full years. It was the most unexpected, healing gift she could have given me — as a friend and as a doula.
Looking back now, I see a journey shaped by culture, body, belief, struggle, and grace. Breastfeeding Awareness Month is a chance to honor all of it — the messy and the miraculous. Every mother’s story is sacred. Every path is worthy.
To all the mamas out there: you are doing an amazing job. Your effort to nourish your little one while also tending to your own well-being — is no small thing. That is devotion. That is strength.
These experiences showed me how deeply we need each other. They taught me that support is not a luxury — it’s essential.
Being a good mother isn’t about getting it right all the time. It’s about staying open to the ways we’re being shaped — through the pain, the softness, the letting go, and the becoming.
In this with you,
Mel
