The Downside of Those Tree of Life Brelfies

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This past weekend, my social media feeds were inundated with a heartwarming trend: the Tree of Life “brelfies” — breastfeeding selfies — that moms around the globe began sharing, all thanks to the nifty app PicsArt. (Seriously, how did I not know about this app before?) The photos were stunning: mothers nourishing their children, complete with a symbolic “tree of life” image celebrating the nourishing power of breast milk.

The movement started as a way to normalize breastfeeding, and I wholeheartedly support that. Women should never face shame for breastfeeding in public or be told to cover up. They’re simply feeding their hungry little ones. However, while I appreciated the beauty of these shared moments, they also stirred a sense of sadness within me.

You see, I never had the chance to breastfeed my children, despite wanting to more than anything. Before my first baby arrived, I was convinced I would succeed. I’d heard the warnings about the challenges of breastfeeding but was determined to master it. Once my son was born, I sought help from a lactation consultant both in the hospital and again after we got home. But at six days old, I sensed something was off.

I wasn’t feeling engorged. Sure, I had milk, but it never felt like enough. The other moms at La Leche League meetings reassured me, telling me to relax. When I asked if I should supplement with formula, the consensus was a resounding “No!” It was as if the word “formula” was a taboo that no one dared to say aloud.

When we visited the pediatrician, she noted my son was gaining weight slowly but insisted we persevere. I tried pumping, but after a long session, I barely produced an ounce. “Don’t give up!” was the mantra I kept hearing. So, I didn’t. I drank more water, baked breastfeeding cookies, and took fenugreek like it was candy. But when my baby was a month old and we went for his well visit, he had dropped nearly two pounds from his birth weight. In a panic, we rushed him to the hospital.

Even then, the conversation didn’t revolve around the possibility that breastfeeding wasn’t working but rather, “There must be something wrong with your baby.” My poor little guy underwent countless blood tests. Well-meaning mothers suggested everything from swallow studies to checks for tongue-tie, but it couldn’t possibly be that I just didn’t have enough milk. After all, isn’t every woman capable of breastfeeding?

Turns out, the answer is no. With no one but my partner to consult, I called her up and told her to grab some formula and bottles on her way to the hospital. “We’re giving it to him,” I said firmly. “He’s starving.” And just like that, my baby began to gain weight. We left the hospital two days later, with doctors finally acknowledging what I had known all along: my child was hungry, and the only way to feed him was with formula.

With my second child, I was ready. I tried breastfeeding again, thinking of all the things I could do differently. But when he didn’t gain weight at his two-week check-up, I quickly handed him a bottle—no hospital trips this time.

Not being able to breastfeed weighed heavily on me for a long time. Seeing those beautiful brelfies on Facebook, watching my mom friends rave about them, tugged at my heart. I love my kids just as fiercely as they love theirs. I want the best for them too. I’m not here to bash breastfeeding—I’ve been accused of doing that for promoting the idea that “fed is best”—but I want fellow moms who share my experience to understand something crucial.

It’s wonderful if you can breastfeed, and if you choose to, you should be supported wholeheartedly. But it’s important to recognize that not everyone can. I couldn’t, for reasons that remain a mystery, even to my OB-GYN. And I almost let my baby go hungry because I listened to the “breast is best” mantra instead of trusting my instincts.

Moms shouldn’t face shame for breastfeeding, but we must also not be shamed if we can’t. The world has enough judgment as it is, and criticizing a mother for how she feeds her baby—regardless of the method—is simply not right.

So here’s my own Tree of Life selfie, along with a reminder that all of us love our babies, and as long as they’re happy, healthy, and thriving, that’s what truly matters.

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Summary

The author shares her experience with breastfeeding challenges, expressing support for the normalization of breastfeeding while also advocating for mothers who can’t breastfeed. The piece highlights the emotional struggles surrounding breastfeeding and promotes understanding and compassion among mothers, regardless of how they choose to feed their babies.