12. Breastfeeding Broke Me (and Healed Me Too)

Breastfeeding, they said, would be a beautiful bonding experience. And sure—it is. But you know what else it was for me? Painful. Emotional. Unexpectedly hard.

No one prepared me for the cracked nipples. The tears at 2am. The shame I felt for struggling with something I thought was supposed to come “naturally.” I remember sitting on the bathroom floor, nursing pillow in one hand, baby in the other, silently begging for it to get easier.

And slowly, it did.

I stopped counting minutes. I stopped second-guessing every latch. I learned what worked for us, not what Instagram or the mommy forums said should work. And when we found that rhythm—our own rhythm—it was pure magic.

The quiet nights, just the two of us, rocking back and forth in the dim light—those moments healed something in me. They reminded me that my body, even in its exhausted, milk-stained state, was strong and worthy. That I was enough—even on the days when it all felt too much.

Not everyone’s feeding journey looks the same. Some breastfeed for years, some for days, some not at all. All of it is okay. All of it is valid. We all feed with love.

For me, breastfeeding started as something that broke me open. But it ended up stitching me back together in the most unexpected, beautiful way.