The “Seasoned Mom” has is all figured out…Right?
In the realm of motherhood, a profound shift occurred when I welcomed my third child into the world. There was joy, instant love, and relief as she latched for the first time. Everyone praised her latch, and I felt like a pro as a seasoned mama. But little did I know that our journey would soon take an unexpected turn.
Within days, we noticed that she was losing a significant amount of weight, despite our best efforts to feed her frequently. My heart sank with worry and confusion as we sought answers from pediatricians, specialists, and consultants. We tried every solution, from revising her tongue tie to various feeding methods, but nothing seemed to work.
I felt a deep sense of helplessness as my precious baby struggled to breastfeed. I yearned to bond and comfort her, but her distress around my breasts left me feeling utterly lost. It was a heartbreaking revelation that she could not thrive on breast milk alone. Watching her drink from a bottle, finally gaining weight, brought both relief and sorrow.
I grieved the loss of what I had expected to be a natural and beautiful part of motherhood - breastfeeding my child. I had successfully breastfed my other two children for over a year each, so it wasn't a matter of inability. I felt a profound sense of loss, a void in my heart where the joyful connection of breastfeeding once resided.
In those moments, as I cradled her in my arms and fed her from a bottle, I discovered a new and profound bond. Bottle feeding may have been different from breastfeeding, but it was no less beautiful. It became our special time together, a moment of connection and nourishment that transcended the physical act of breastfeeding.
She would look up at me with her wide eyes, and I could feel the love and trust she placed in me as her mother. The way her tiny hands gripped the bottle and her little body relaxed in my embrace filled my heart with an overwhelming sense of love and protection.
Bottle feeding became our shared experience, a time when she depended on me for sustenance and comfort. I realized that motherhood is not defined by a specific feeding method but by the unconditional love and care we provide for our children.
In those quiet moments of feeding, I cherished the chance to bond with her and savor the fleeting time of her infancy. The warmth of her little body against mine, the way she would coo and smile as she drank her milk, all etched themselves deeply in my heart.
As I navigated the challenges of motherhood and grieved the loss of our breastfeeding journey, I discovered the need for a space to grieve without judgment. Many well-meaning voices offered advice or attributed the issue to something we just didn't try hard enough, but sometimes there's no clear answer. The truth is, every mother's journey is unique, and sometimes the road takes unexpected turns.
I want to be the one to say, "Yes, this is hard, and it hurts." As mothers, we should be allowed to feel both the joy and the grief, and to embrace the unseen dimensions of our motherhood journey. It's okay to grieve and to find solace in knowing we're not alone in our struggles.
In the realm of "Embracing the Unseen," I've learned that being present for someone means simply sitting with them in their pain and offering empathy without judgment. By holding space for each other's experiences, we create a supportive and compassionate community where mothers can freely express their emotions.
Please know you are not alone. Your journey and story deserve to be celebrated. I am here to sit with you in the uncomfortable, in the struggle. I’m here to connect with you, photography related or not.
Motherhood is better lived with a community around us.
Vulnerability and acceptance.