My Feeding Journey: From Tears to Trusting Myself

If you had asked me during those first weeks of sleep-deprived newborn days what my feeding plan was, I would have proudly said, “I’m exclusively pumping.” And I was. But the truth is, getting there wasn’t at all how I imagined it. 

Breastfeeding was supposed to feel natural and be bonding time for me and my new born daughter. Instead, my early days were full of the opposite—tears, stress, and so many unknowns. I was constantly worrying: Was my baby getting enough? Was I doing it right? Why wasn’t this working the way everyone said it would? 

Those days were heavy and filled with self-doubt. Every feeding felt like a test and when she wouldn't latch I felt as though I was failing. The pressure to breastfeed “perfectly” weighed on me, until eventually I turned to exclusive pumping. 

And for weeks—then months—I lived by the pump. Hooked up around the clock, washing bottles, sanitizing parts, planning my entire life in three-hour increments. My days and nights blurred together with the hum of that machine in the background. Every ounce I produced felt like gold, and every spill or dip in supply felt like heartbreak. 

It wasn’t easy. In fact, at times it felt like I was barley holding everything together. But I pushed on because I thought that was what made me a good mom—that giving my baby breast milk at any cost was what was “best.” 

The Mental Load of Pumping 

Pumping is more than just a physical task—it’s an emotional marathon. It’s setting alarms in the middle of the night, dragging yourself out of bed to pump instead of sleep. It’s feeling guilt when your supply dips, shame when you can’t keep up, and devastation when milk is spilled. 

It’s the constant mental math: How many ounces are in the fridge? Will it last until tomorrow? Do I have time to pump before we leave the house? 

Over time, pumping shifted from being a tool that supported me to something that drained me. It stopped feeling like an act of love and started feeling like a burden I couldn’t escape. I dreaded the pump—not just disliked it, but truly dreaded it. 

Why I Stopped 

Eventually, I reached a breaking point. My supply was dipping despite my best efforts. I was exhausted, overwhelmed, and starting to resent the very process that was meant to nourish my baby. 

I realized I wasn’t present anymore—I was tied down, disconnected, and missing out on the sweet moments I desperately wanted to cherish. Feeding my baby was supposed to be about closeness and comfort, but instead it had become about ounces, ounces, ounces. 

I had to ask myself hard questions: Why am I still doing this? Who am I doing it for? 

The honest answer was that I was doing it out of guilt, out of fear of being judged, and out of a belief that my worth as a mother depended on my ability to keep going. 

That’s when I knew something had to change. 

Letting Go of Guilt 

Making the decision to transition to formula didn’t happen overnight. It came with a lot of soul-searching and tears. I worried: Will people judge me? Am I giving up too soon? 

But when I finally allowed myself to explore the idea without judgment, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time: relief. I realized that my happiness, my energy, and my ability to show up emotionally for my baby were just as important as what was in the bottle. 

Because here’s the truth: formula is not a failure. It’s nourishment. It’s freedom. It’s sanity. It’s a tool that allows me to give my baby what they truly need—a mom who is healthy, present, and full of love. 

Embracing the Transition 

We’ve started the transition, one bottle at a time. And you know what? My baby is thriving. The sky didn’t fall. My bond with my child didn’t weaken. If anything, it has grown stronger—because I’m no longer weighed down by something that was depleting me. 

There’s joy now in simply cuddling and feeding without the hum of a pump in the background or the constant ticking of the clock in my head. I can go for a walk without bringing my pump or plan a day out without stressing over when I’ll pump next. 

I’ve reclaimed not only my time, but also my peace of mind. 

Final Thoughts 

If you’re reading this while sitting in the thick of it—exhausted, overwhelmed, doubting yourself—please know this: choosing your happiness is not selfish. It’s not quitting. It’s not giving up on your baby. 

It’s giving to your baby by taking care of yourself. 

Feeding journeys look different for every parent, and there is no one-size-fits-all path. But if you’re feeling that pull to make a change, trust your intuition. You’re not alone—and you’re still an amazing parent, no matter how your baby is fed. 

This was the right choice for me. And I’m proud of it.