I recently met a college friend at an event. Casually updating each other, he mentioned he had just become a father. Eagerly, I asked, "Breastfeeding?" He shook his head. "The supply wasn’t enough. We had to switch to formula after 25 days."
My heart ached and it aches every time when I hear “supply wasn’t enough’.
I am not trying to judge the choices. It’s just the realization of how fragile the breastfeeding journey can be.
Two years ago, I became a mother. Before my daughter arrived, my husband and I had researched extensively and decided, no matter what, we would try breastfeeding. I say "we" deliberately, not the clichéd "we're pregnant", but because breastfeeding truly requires partnership. Moving on, I had somehow convinced myself (without any scientific backing) that a cesarean section might affect milk supply, so I was determined to have a natural delivery. I couldn’t take any chances. Yes, I admit, I am stupid.
Labor was manageable, but fourth-grade piles and stitches made the first ten days agonizing. Yet, through the pain, my only thought was, my baby must be breastfed. Crazy right?
On the sixth day, my urine got retained. Unaware of how serious this was, I went for a routine check-up. Suddenly, doctors swarmed around me like I was a critical patient. The pain from my stitches had shocked my bladder which then retained. But even then, my focus was into breastfeeding. I’d become like a “huttityau”, convinced the sky would fall if I didn’t single-handedly hold it up. I was going nuts.
Society romanticizes breastfeeding as a natural, effortless act. Science reinforces this by declaring it irreplaceable. Yet both forget to mention that a mother cannot do this alone. What’s portrayed as instinctive is actually a grueling marathon requiring an entire support system, an army.
Little details on the army behind who made my breastfeeding journey possible.
I breastfed my baby for two years without using formula and I am still nursing. But this journey would have ended long ago if I’d been left to do it alone. Let me introduce my support team, first my husband, who supported me by handling everything else, so I could focus on feeding. My mother-in-law who formula-fed her sons but became my biggest support system when we decided to breastfeed. My family who sourced equipment unavailable locally. My postpartum caregiver, the “sutketi syarne didi”, whose expert hands solved latching struggles when we were at our wit’s end. My pediatrician, both a lactation specialist and breastfeeding mother herself, who always knew exactly what guidance I needed (many times emotional than physical).
Breastfeeding while working was exhausting, teaching morning classes, working full days, attending evening courses, all while maintaining nursing for every feed. I don’t know how I did it all. Or I did it only because I didn’t have to do it all alone. Every once of mild was made possible by this village standing with me.
I’d also like to address the myths we’re fed about milk supply. Among ten women I knew who had babies within two years, only three of us breastfed successfully. The rest switched to formula, saying what my friend told me, “Not enough production”. I find this very troubling because even though undersupply is a real thing, it’s not as common as we think. Instead of support, we subject mothers to crushing doubt with comments like, “if you had milk, it would have come by now,”. Well-meaning visitors and family members don’t realize how these words cut or how the pressure to produce instantly after delivery can sabotage what little supply is building.
What most people don’t understand is that breastfeeding isn’t some automatic biological function. It’s a skill that must be learned by both mother and baby, often through tears and frustration. And, milk can take days, even a week, to fully come in, specially after a traumatic delivery. I’ve also come to realize the problem is rarely the mother’s body. It’s the lack of support, the misinformation, and the weight of expectations that doom so many breastfeeding journeys before they even begin.
We’re fed so many misconceptions about breastfeeding that set mothers up for unnecessary doubt. Let’s look at some of the misconceptions:
1. “Milk should come in by Day 4 in 90-120 ml quantities”- False. For some, it takes longer. Healing mothers might need little more time.
2. “You’ll instinctively know if you’re producing enough” – Impossible. Between cluster feeding and growth spurts, even well-fed babies seem constantly hungry. What mothers really need is reassurance and someone tracking wet diapers (at least 6 per day, no matter how small).
3. Formula is just as good – Nope. While formula is a lifesaver for many, breastmilk contains living antibodies, stem cells, and enzymes that science cannot replicate.
4. "Breastfeeding is an innate skill." – A lie. It’s a learned art requiring patience, support, and practice. No new mother should feel inadequate for struggling at first.
5. “Adequate supply means milk spraying dramatically like in videos."- No Way. Early nursing means drops of colostrum, growing slowly to teaspoons. Your body is calibrating—this gradual increase is normal.
Let me also mention what helped me to keep my breastfeeding journey sustained. As a working mother, my breast pump became my constant companion. I stored milk in hotel freezers during trips, labeled bags like a "milk librarian," and relied on these key supports:
1. A hospital grade pump – I used Spectra, medela works too to stimulate supply
2. Power pumping sessions to mimic cluster feeding where you pump for 10 minutes and pause for 10 minutes to boost production.
3. Night pumps (twice, 30 minutes each) because prolactin peaks at night.
4. Constant hydration- “jwano ko jhol”, “jeera pani”, “kada paani”, basically any “pani” to keep yourself hydrated.
5. Laddus made out of sesame seeds and chaku (no scientific proof but my supply noticeably increased)
6. Counting diapers (6+ wet ones a daily means baby is getting enough)
7. Watching for alert eyes and moist lips rather than fixating over weighing machines.
8. Stubborn patience to continuing to pump after feeds, trusting the gradual increase that comes with consistency.
Reading through my own advice, I’m stuck by the fact that my breastfeeding journey was made possible only by the privilege. How many mothers can solely focus on feeding when they’re also responsible for cooking, cleaning, and caring for babies?
How couples abroad with no extended family to help, manage this alone?
It’s truly said that you need a village a raise a child. In my village, my mother-in-law thawed milk meticulously for every single feed (the process of which should start at least half an hour before). My husband who reassured me every time I doubted my supply and has been in this journey as my friend since day 1. My postpartum caregivers Devaki didi and Rupa didi, who cleaned, washed, cooked and fed us. My pediatrician, Dr. Smriti, who herself was a breastfeeding mother, whose lived experiences were of immense help. (Shout out to you Dr. Smriti for being the wonderful doctor that you are.) My workplace which provided both policy (maternity leave) and practical support (the pumping and storing space). And perhaps most critical, the words. Words both inspiring and uninspiring. It’s notable that the difference between “you’re producing enough” and “aaune dudh aaisakthyo” can determine whether a mother perseveres or gives up. Silence is always kinder than sowing doubts. If we value breastfeeding, we must vale the support system that make it possible. The milk may come from one body, but the strength to sustain it must come from all.
There’s still more that I discovered. That a breastmilk is a real liquid gold. When added to bathwater, it soothed by baby’s rashes. A drop healed my baby’s infected eyes (this isn’t science, just my experience). At 18 months, she spoke in full sentences which might be a coincidence, but I can’t help feeling breastfeeding played a role.
This journal of mine is not written to proclaim that breastfeeding is the only path. Rather, it’s written to recognize that when so many mothers want to breastfeed but can’t, the responsibility lies with all of us. We've reduced breastfeeding education to simplistic slogans like "breast is best" without teaching the practical hows and whys. We expect mothers to nourish new life while isolated from support systems that have sustained nursing women for millennia. And shame them when they give up.
I write this for those mothers who are determined to breastfeed. Mothers, please know this. You’re not failing if it’s hard. It’s supposed to be hard. Our bodies weren’t designed to do this alone in isolation, yet modern motherhood expects exactly that. You will need immense help. Without supporting husband who share the mental load, families, workplace pumping policies, most women will fail because we’ve built the world which is yet to figure out the ways to support nursing mothers.
Additionally, I realized how much we lack context-specific support, those small but critical pieces of knowledge that make breastfeeding sustainable. So often, people want to help but don’t know the way. I learned to ask specifically for what I needed, and in doing so, found opportunities to educate others. I learned to speak openly, whether explaining to hotel staff why I needed their freezer or educating male coworkers about pumping schedules. Or to security official at airport who questioned about my milk storage, each interaction became a chance to build the system to support breastfeeding.
In my journey, the moments that stayed with me the most are the small mercies of the airport security officer who carefully labeled my milk “fragile”, to office colleagues who rearranged their schedules to accommodate my pumping needs, the countless moments that said, “we see you and, we’ll make space.”
It’s almost miraculous to think that I breastfed for two years while working full-time in a job that required me to travel often. But the real magic was that enough people cared to make it possible for my baby.
Because new mothers, need more than slogans. New mothers need their village. Because the village sustains the mother and that’s how the liquid gold flows.
- With love
Shraddha Upadhyaya (Sadhvi’s Mama)
