When (and for years before) I was pregnant with my first I was ceirtain I would breastfeed. I was absolutely sure the only reason people didn’t was because they were lazy and didn’t try hard enough or because they were misinformed by evil formula companies.
I can promise you I did absolutely everything- took every drug and herb - pumped - fed constantly - overate out of fear of reducing supply further by restricting calories - tried to rest - used an SNS and despite reluctantly having to use formula (in my SNS) kept up this full on effort for 6 months before finally and to my despair my baby just completely refused the breast - I mean he screamed at the sight of it and didn’t have any desire to latch on and I had to switch to bottles. The torture for both of us was finally over.
With my second I wanted to do better, I suspected I had insufficient glandular tissue because my breasts though large are an odd shape with very large areolae and inward pointing small nipples. Still I heard you grew more tissue with each pregnancy and maybe this time it would be easier. I resolved though to just supplement if things weren’t going well and not to kill myself trying to make breastfeeding work given I now had a toddler to care for too. I didn’t manage to make it work. Maybe if I’d tried harder but I told myself “my older child getting attention and not feeling pushed out by the baby is more important than me claiming the identity of a breastfeeding mother” and I stand by that.
In a few years (I’m thinking 3-4) I’d like another child. Part of me thought with a bigger gap trying breastfeeding again properly might be more viable. But you know what, milling it over... I’m not sure I want to. I’ve felt the convenience of formula and bottles. Online people say breastfeeding is so easy - no bottles to wash (takes 5 minuites...) - just whip out a boob instead of going to the fridge (neither I nor my babies seem good at sleeping in a shared bed - we all like our space to toss and turn and if I’m getting up to feed the baby a short trip to the fridge isn’t a big deal, plus they’ve all slept through early) and finally I am not chained to the baby. I LOVE not being chained to the baby. Grandma can watch him. Dad can watch him. I can go out on my own and stay out even during feed time and it’s not a big deal involving weird milking machines.
Maybe I am the lazy mother I scorned before I even had a child. I look back though and don’t even care that my past self is judging me. Judge away past self, I can go out and leave the babies with my husband. If I wanted to I could go away for a whole week knowing they were fine and taken care of and my breasts wouldn’t feel like overheated rocks.