adore cherish love: expressing

Mummy Guilt and the Lies I Kept Telling Myself

Long before I became pregnant, I was certain I would breastfeed my baby. I never imagined another path — I assumed I would push through any hurdle and come out the other side still nursing. Once my husband and I were expecting, I threw myself into research, determined to get feeding right for our little one. I joined the Australian Breastfeeding Association and read their book cover to cover, and I booked into their class too — though a bout of pre-eclampsia late in my pregnancy meant I never made it.

I was so set on breastfeeding. Then Lilly arrived early at 33+6 weeks, fast and without warning. Suddenly everything I had studied meant nothing in practice.

Reflecting on the early days of my breastfeeding journey — Where our feeding story began

When the Plan Changed Overnight

I couldn't hold Lilly skin to skin right after birth — she was whisked away to the Special Care Nursery while I was still unconscious. When I came round from surgery, my husband began collecting colostrum into syringes with help from my nurse. The next day I started expressing with the hospital-grade Medela pumps. I was desperate to try nursing her, but she simply wasn't strong enough yet.

A week later we began skin to skin. The nurses assured me Lilly would find my nipple on her own, but nothing happened — she wasn't interested. I even popped my nipple into her mouth while she yawned and took our first pretend breastfeeding photo, hoping it would soften how I felt about our lack of progress. I told everyone we had started breastfeeding, how wonderful it was, how clever Lilly was. I was fooling myself.

Expressing breast milk with a hospital grade pump — Expressing became our daily routine

Small Wins, Then a Setback

At two and a half weeks old, Lilly finally latched and sucked for a moment, and from there things slowly improved. Each day she sucked a little longer, taking the rest through her feeding tube. Eventually we managed one full breastfeed and I was overjoyed — at last I felt like a real mum. Her progress came quickly, and soon she was doing two feeds a day with no top up. At the time it felt painfully slow, but she really did get the hang of it; she just needed to build her strength.

Then came the milestone: Lilly graduated from the Special Care Nursery and we wheeled her into Maternity to room in together for the first time in her four and a half weeks on earth. I was thrilled to finally begin our breastfeeding journey properly. That's when it all unravelled.

We got through the day fine, but by her fifth feed (she was on three-hourly feeds) she was utterly exhausted and couldn't latch or suck properly. We spent our 48 hours in Maternity barely sleeping, doing our best to breastfeed with little success. Whenever the nurses checked in, I lied to them and to myself about how well she was doing. I suppose I believed that if I said we were fine, we would be — but really I just couldn't bear to lose her again. I wanted to get her home.

Trying to breastfeed my premature baby girl — Learning to feed together, one step at a time

Coming Home and Facing the Truth

When our 48 hours were up, the paediatrician did Lilly's release check — and she had lost a full 100g in just two days. They wanted us to stay, but eventually let us go home on the condition we had her weighed again within 48 hours and returned if there was no improvement. Looking back, we should have stayed. We should have admitted we were struggling, but we didn't. We bundled up our precious girl and left that hospital as fast as we could, telling myself it would all be okay once we were away from it.

At home I relaxed a little, but we were still struggling — and I was so stressed that my milk almost vanished. I went from expressing over 200mls in a 20-minute session to a frightening 10mls. I saw my GP and started medication to boost my supply (which worked almost instantly), and I decided to give Lilly an expressed milk bottle — or two, or three. We began trying a breastfeed and then topping up with my expressed milk. I felt better, Lilly went back to sleeping like an angel, and life with a not-so-newborn was lovely. Yet I carried so much guilt.

I felt like a failure for not breastfeeding her exclusively. After our difficult birth, I told myself I needed to do better, that I needed to breastfeed. I kept telling everyone what a great job we were doing and that she was a breastfed baby, but that simply wasn't true. We were lucky to manage two full breastfeeds a day — hardly a breastfed baby at all.

A quiet moment breastfeeding with a nipple shield — Finding our rhythm with nipple shields

Finding Peace With Our Own Way

Five weeks on, we are still expressing and bottle feeding. I've since got my hands on some wonderful Medela nipple shields, and we usually attempt two breastfeeds a day — Lilly seriously kicks butt with them. But a feed takes her an hour, which my lactation consultant says is too long for a tiny preemie with limited energy. So around 10am we have one super-long breastfeed, then we rock the bottle for the rest of the day.

I finally feel at peace with how we feed, and I no longer feel like a failure. When someone asks if we breastfeed, I still say yes — but now I fill them in on the details. Lying about it only made me feel worse. It seemed like everyone else either breastfeeds or formula feeds, but there's a whole other group of mums out there just like me, expressing and bottle feeding.

I truly love the connection Lilly and I share during a breastfeed, the way she pokes and prods at my boob to get the milk flowing — there are no words for how amazing that feels. I can't wait for the day she's stronger and able to breastfeed exclusively. For now, though, I love the way she gazes up at me while she has a bottle, right into my eyes, as if to say, "I know it's not what you wanted, Mummy, but thank you for not giving up on the boobie milk — I love you." And that makes it all worthwhile.