When I got pregnant, I was aware that breastfeeding had been an issue for the women in my family for generations. Unfortunately, in most cases there is no way for me to find out why most of the babies in my family have been bottle-fed. Only my aunt was able to enlighten me as far as her own story goes - her first child was very ill, so he was taken away straight after the birth and fed formula while apart from his mother. My aunt tried to feed both of her daughters when they were born, but to no avail - no milk would come. I was told that my mother also was unable to breastfeed my sister and me, but I never really found out any details about that. So during this first pregnancy, I was aware that I might not be able to nurse my child at all - I wanted to, mind you, but I told myself I would not beat myself up overly much if it did not work out for some reason.

So, up until the birth of my little girl, I felt quite confident that I would be able to arrange myself with formula feeding, if that’s what it had to be. Well, what can I say? I seem to have underestimated my subconscious grossly.

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In any case, after a long period of intense emotional struggle, my little baby and I now seem to have come to an agreement of sorts. I get to nurse her as long as she will tolerate it. When she is too tired to continue trying, she gets the bottle.

Phew…now that I am coming to terms with this chapter of raising my baby, I am focusing on having her close to me - I recently acquired a Sling and am now getting an advisor in for that as well, as I seem to struggle with the concept of binding it properly. Since I know it’s really good for my fella, though, I will keep trying. Pictures to follow, if success sets in