OP struck a chord with me. When pg with dd, I was sure I would breast-feed, there wasn't the slightest doubt in my mind and I had read up on the physical discomforts (sore nipples, mastisis etc etc) and was prepared to deal with everything.
What I wasn't prepared for was that my milk never came. It was so devastating for me. There were a few drops of milk but nowhere near the flow there should be. I used to listen to people in my antenatal group say stuff like "I heard a baby cry and my breasts let down milk" and they'd talk about the toe-curling feeling when the milk let down. I have never experienced any of this and I used to feel like such a failure listening to all this.
At 4 weeks, I gave up struggling and gave dd the bottle. It was that or starve her. When I stopped "breast-feeding" I had no pain, no heavy breasts, nothing. That was when dh believed that I didn't have milk - he used to have a pet cat as a child and had to help her deal with blocked ducts when her kittens were given away.
I spent the first year of dd's life terrified that everyone was judging me. I used to look around furtively when I took the bottle out. If anyone had ever commented on the bottle, I would have died, literally died, as I was so guilty.
But in all that time, ONLY ONE woman commented, and that was a reflection on her not on me. She was an old woman with horribly strict views - I cut her out of my life when she made that distressingly hurtful comment and I am happier for it. Her son was getting married around that time and I was feeling for her dil and hoping she had no trouble either conceiving, in childbirth, or in bf'ing, using cloth nappies, blw etc. etc. because her MIL wouldn't be understanding or supportive, the stupid cow.