the breastfeeding struggle no one prepared me for (& the book it inspired)

MOTHERHOOD

WRITTEN BY VALENTINA REBESCHINI

OCTOBER 12, 2025

When I became a mum, about 14 years ago, I truly believed that breastfeeding would be the most natural thing in the world. That's what everyone tells you, right?

In this article:

01 The Expectation

02 The Reality

03 The Silence

04 The Awakening

05 The Healing

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As a first time mum, I was terrified by the idea of the birth and that's where all my thinking energy went. I never really questioned the fact that I would breastfeed, that's the easiest part. Why would I pay for formula when my body could produce milk, on demand, for free? Breastfeeding was never an issue during my pregnancy and something that didn't need my attention. My focus was on the big unknown: how the hell will I get this baby out of my body?

But the reality was different.

The birth itself was beautiful. My daughter was born in a birth centre, in water, it was everything I’d hoped for. But the moment they placed her in my arms and told me to latch her, that’s when the nightmare began.

It was painful right away. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t get much support. And what started as physical pain quickly turned into emotional pain.

The pressure, the exhaustion, the guilt when it didn’t come easily. I cried while feeding. I cried when I stopped. I cried when I thought I was the only one struggling.

I reached out to helplines. I asked the health visitors. Everyone seemed to say the same thing: the baby might be in the wrong position, it’s okay if there’s blood in the milk (well, it’s not), you’re not doing it right if it hurts, you just need to keep feeding...

Until a midwife noticed my daughter’s weight had dropped and asked if I could do a formula top-up.

That was my lifeline. The one that gave my breasts a break so they could recover, the one that allowed my girl to gain weight again and slowly gave me that peace of mind that brought me back to sanity.

But I didn’t talk about it much with others. Not properly. Not honestly. I smiled through the pain. I nodded along when other mums shared their wins. And slowly, I wrapped that feeling of failure into a quiet corner of myself and got on with it, like we all do.

Years later, as a newborn photographer working with new mums, something unexpected happened.

In those calm moments during newborn shoots, with white noise humming in the background, with the warmth in the room and the soft music playing, women began to open up with me.

They whispered truths.

“I didn’t expect it to hurt like this.”

“I gave up and still feel guilty.”

“I thought it would be natural, but it’s the hardest thing I’ve done.”

Those shy confessions mirrored my own. And that’s when I realised, I wasn’t the only one. It wasn’t my fault breastfeeding didn't work out. Not even close.

One mum told me through tears that she'd been expressing milk for months, never managing to latch her baby directly, but felt too ashamed to tell anyone that she was exclusively bottle-feeding her own breast milk. Another shared how she'd switch to formula at night but felt like she was "cheating" every time she reached for a bottle. These were the real stories, the ones that don't make it into the glossy leaflets or the well-meaning advice columns.

So I began collecting these stories in my mind until I found the courage to do something more.

I reached out to women who were willing to be photographed and share their stories.

I felt I had to do something so other women didn't feel the same isolation I had. Someone needed to hold these stories. Honour them. Let them exist outside of our own heads.

Eventually, those stories became Milk Tales: A Journey of Motherhood and Breastfeeding, a collection of portraits and words from women who have walked through the often invisible side of feeding. The part that doesn’t make it into the leaflets or the filtered photos. The part that hurts and heals at the same time.

Creating this book didn't just help other women, it healed something in me too.

Every story I photographed, every truth shared in that safe space, slowly untangled the knot of shame I'd been carrying for over a decade. I learned that my experience wasn't a personal failing. I’d simply been failed by the systems, the silence, the unrealistic expectations.

My book isn't a guide. I'm not an expert. I’m just a mum who struggled and never forgot.

A mum who knows how lonely those early days can feel, and how your brain plays tricks on you to make you feel guilty and like a failure. And how hearing someone else say "me too" can be the beginning of healing.

I believe we can look after our mental health not only with therapy and tools, but starting with the truth.

With honest, messy, real and beautifully imperfect conversations.

So this is mine.

If you're a new mum struggling to feed, or a not-so-new mum still holding onto guilt, I want you to hear this:

You're not alone.

You didn't do it wrong.

And you're not broken.

Your feeding journey, whatever it looks like, is valid. Whether you're breastfeeding, bottle-feeding, combination feeding, or anything in between, you're doing what's right for you and your baby. And that's enough. You're enough.

The guilt you're carrying? It's not yours to keep. Put it down. We'll hold the truth instead.

about the author

CONTRIBUTING WRITER

Danielle is an autistic author, lucky enough to live in the beautiful backdrop of the Cumbrian countryside with her husband and cat. She writes poetry about nature, the beauty of the world we live in and the difficulties of life challenges. She is also writing here memoirs highlighting the challenges of being on the autistic spectrum, whilst trying to live, work and interact, with the various misinterpretations and problems which it can present. She also write about the various health challenges faced with conditions such as fibromyalgia, endometriosis and IBS and finding a holistic path to experience better health and wellness.

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