Two daughters, two completely different breastfeeding journeys

I have two daughters, and I breastfed both of them. That is pretty much where the similarity ends.

With Eden, my first, it started rocky, and I mean really rocky. Within the first couple of days I found out I needed a nipple shield, and I thought, fine, quick fix, we will use it for a few weeks and move on. I used that nipple shield for a full year, and it was never easy. You are managing a hungry newborn, a thin piece of silicone, and your own two hands at three in the morning, and nothing about that is graceful.

The thing that saved me was that I took a breastfeeding class while I was pregnant. I went in knowing it was going to be hard, which sounds small but it changed everything. I was not blindsided. I also came out of it with a list of people to call when things went sideways, which they did, because the first few days with a newborn are chaos no matter how prepared you are.

What actually helped me get through the early weeks

We had a lactation consultant come to the house. Her best tip had nothing to do with latch. She told us to have Uri do one bottle feed a night, the entire thing, feed and burp and change, while I pumped and went straight back to sleep. That worked for me because pumping was easy, and as an overproducer, I honestly found it a lot easier than nursing ever was, so it became our ritual. Uri got up with Eden once a night, and I was quietly building a freezer stash the whole time.

I also never liked nursing outside the house, so we did a combo, bottle when we were out and breast with the shield at home. I stopped apologizing for that pretty quickly.

If there is one theme in those early weeks, it is that support is not a luxury, it is the thing that makes the rest possible.

Weaning a toddler is a different kind of goodbye

Then came solids, or what passed for solids. I joke that Eden liked to drink her food instead of eat it. I also prefer a smoothie to actually sitting down to a meal, so I guess we are similar in that sense. For the first three years of her life she would pick milk over anything you put in front of her.

My goal had been to breastfeed for two years. What nobody tells you is that when you nurse for two years, you are not weaning a baby anymore. You are weaning a toddler, and a toddler has a lot to say about it. It took me a full year, from age two to age three, to get her there. She loved "milky" and she loved being physically close to me, and she still does, still my snuggler to this day. A lot of it was never about food at all.

And there is never a good time. You decide this is the week, and then she gets sick, or you travel, or something comes up. You always have a reasonable excuse to wait, and because you know the benefits are real, the excuse is easy to take.

What finally worked was her third birthday. We told her that for her birthday, Milky was going away. By then she was old enough to actually understand it. I dreaded it for weeks, and Uri told me we were about to ruin her birthday. Then it took about a day. Eden cannot do anything in stages, and I should have known that about her, because there was no gentle taper. Cold turkey was the only way it was ever going to work with her.

That was three years total with Eden: one year with a nipple shield, and two more years of night feeds and comfort.

Then Emma arrived, and everything was different again

Then Emma was born, and the beginning was so much easier, with no nipple shield at all. Her mouth was bigger, she was a bigger baby, and I had done this before. Emma herself was easy too, eating well, sleeping well, and never much work.

Can a baby who feeds beautifully still have a tongue tie?

Yes, and it caught me off guard. At four months her pediatrician told us Emma needed a frenectomy to release one, and I was so surprised, because she was such a good breastfeeder. It had honestly never occurred to me that a baby could feed beautifully and still have a tie that needed releasing. I had assumed those two things could not be true at the same time. If something feels off, or even if it does not, it is always worth asking your pediatrician or an IBCLC.

What was harder was everything around the baby. The first time, my whole day could bend around a feed, but this time I had a toddler.

When Emma was six months old, we moved to Pacific Palisades. Any move is stressful, and this one landed right in the middle of everything else. I was running Eden's schedule, swim class and ballet and drop-offs and pickups, and I had a new business. WeNatal was young and it needed me. I was not available to nurse around the clock the way I had been the first time, so I was mostly pumping and bottle feeding Emma.

When my supply dropped, and why I did not blame myself

My supply had been very high in the beginning, high enough that I donated bags and bags and bags of milk from my freezer to a baby who needed it. Then it started coming down, slowly at first, in a way I could tell myself was normal. Then it fell off a cliff.

By nine months I was supplementing with formula, and I want to be clear that I was okay with it. Emma was never attached to nursing the way Eden was. She was not looking for the snuggle, she was looking for dinner, and she loved food, eating everything we handed her, sardines and egg yolks and whatever was on our plates. Between the move, the four year old, and the business, it made complete sense to me that my supply would go. I did not beat myself up about it.

I am saying that part out loud because so many women do beat themselves up about it, and because a dropping supply almost never happens in isolation. It happens in the same month you are stressed, exhausted, stretched thin, and not sleeping. Mine did.

I nursed Emma for a full year, and by her first birthday she was done. She just wanted food.

If your supply is shifting, please know it is not a verdict on you as a mother, and there is real support out there, from an IBCLC to your own provider. One quiet, foundational thing that helped me feel like myself through both of these seasons was staying consistent with my own nutrition, including my prenatal. Continuing a comprehensive prenatal through breastfeeding is one of the simplest ways to help replenish what pregnancy and birth draw down.

What I want every new mom to hear

Two girls, three years and one year. A nipple shield with one and none at all with the other. An overproducer, and then, four years later, a mom watching her supply disappear and reaching for formula. Same body, same house, completely different experience.

That is what I want every new mom to hear. Your journey is not going to look like your friend's, and it is not going to look like your last one either. There is no version of this you are supposed to be doing.

If I could hand my past self a short list, it would be this:

• Take the breastfeeding class while you are still pregnant. Knowing it will be hard is most of the battle.
• Get the phone numbers before you need them, not at two in the morning when you do.
• Hand off one feed a night to your partner and actually sleep through it.
• Do not assume a good feeder cannot have a tongue tie. Emma nursed beautifully and still had one at four months, and I never would have thought to ask.
• Pay attention to what kind of kid you have. The gentle taper that works for one will not work for another, and cold turkey is not a failure of patience.

A note from WeNatal on your breastfeeding journey

Breastfeeding can be beautiful, exhausting, emotional, empowering, and incredibly complicated, sometimes all in the same day. My two journeys are a reminder that even with the same mother, the experience can look completely different from one baby to the next.

At WeNatal, we believe feeding your baby should never become a measure of your worth as a mother. Whether your journey includes nursing, pumping, a nipple shield, donated milk, formula, or some combination of them all, there is no single “right” way to do this. The right path is the one that helps both you and your baby feel nourished, supported, and cared for.

We created WeNatal because mothers deserve support too, not only for milk production or nutrient needs, but for the whole person carrying the physical and emotional weight of this season. Our hope is that you feel encouraged to ask for help, make the choices that work for your family, and offer yourself the same grace you give so freely to your baby.

You are not behind. You are not failing. You are learning your baby, listening to your body, and finding your way together. That is more than enough.

With love,
Ronit