The Heart Behind the Practitioner: My Three Very Different Feeding Journeys

As an IBCLC and midwife with a decade of experience, my days are spent examining latches, weighing newborns, and discussing the intricacies of milk supply. Yet before I became a professional, I was simply a mother, sitting alone on the sofa in the small hours, wondering why feeding felt so difficult and isolating.

There’s a common misconception that having “expert” titles means breastfeeding was straightforward for me. In reality, my three daughters taught me more than any textbook ever could—each journey was a unique challenge, a mountain to scale.

Baby One: The Battle for Every Gram

My eldest’s feeding journey was a whirlwind of anxiety and weight loss. We endured the exhausting cycle of triple feeding—breast, pump, and bottle—with rigid feeding plans. Her tongue-tie went unnoticed at the time, something that pains me now with my current knowledge.

Every gram of weight gain was hard-won until she started on solids, and the sleep deprivation was unrelenting (I confess, she still keeps me company at midnight!). That experience instilled in me the resilience parents need when what’s meant to be “natural” feels like a clinical struggle.

Baby Two: The Bottle Refusal & The Physical Toll

My second daughter took to the breast instinctively, giving me hope for an easier journey—until it was time to return to work. She steadfastly refused every bottle we tried.

Balancing work and personal commitments with a baby who only wanted “the source” was incredibly stressful. Add to that the throbbing pain of blocked ducts and the flu-like exhaustion of mastitis, and I was reminded that even when feeding appears smooth, the journey can be both physically and emotionally draining.

Baby Three: The Bittersweet “Last Time”

With my third, I applied all my training from the outset. We identified her tongue-tie early and addressed it, resulting in a remarkable improvement in her latch—the sort of “textbook” fix I wished I’d had with my first child.

We are still nursing, but I’ve been surprised by the emotional wave of “Last Baby” grief. We often discuss how to begin breastfeeding, but we rarely acknowledge the emotional toll of knowing the journey will soon come to an end. It’s a quiet, heavy sadness to realise you’re closing that chapter for good.

Why I’m Sharing This

I share these stories because when you welcome me into your home, I see you. I see the mum exhausted by the scales. I see the parent stressed about going back to work. I see the mother quietly grieving the end of a precious season.

My intention isn’t just to “fix” a feeding issue; it’s to create space for you, whatever your journey may be. Whether it’s your first baby or your last, you don’t have to do it alone.