As a mom of three, breastfeeding brings up so many emotions—pride, joy, and even a little grief. Breastfeeding has been such a powerful part of my motherhood journey, but with each child it has looked different. 
I breastfed my eldest son, RJ, for 18 months. Born at the start of the pandemic our days and nights were meshed into one. Those 18 months were filled with more than just feedings—they were comforting for both of us during a time of uncertainty. In those early days, breastfeeding felt like one of the few things I could control. It was my way of comforting him, grounding both of us in love and familiarity, especially when everything else felt uncertain. It created a bond that is still so present—a connection that got us through some of the hardest days of our lives.
Two years later my daughter, Quinn, was born. When she was born, I felt like a ‘breastfeeding professional’. I was so sure of it all and every intention of giving her the same start—but life had other plans. Quinn is my premie baby, born at 34 weeks. She taught me the true meaning of “fed is best”. While in the NICU I worked hard to make majority of her feeds, but also understood the importance of supplementing with formula for her nutritional goals. However, just three months into our breastfeeding journey, my world came crashing down, RJ was diagnosed with cancer. The stress, fear, and sheer exhaustion overtook my body, and I wasn’t able to continue breastfeeding. The guilt was overwhelming. I felt like I had let her down.
But here’s what I’ve come to realize: love isn’t measured in ounces. Quinn may not have breastfed as long as her brothers, but our bond is just as strong and just as beautiful. She is my firecracker, my shadow, my girl who wraps her arms around my neck and reminds me that our connection goes far beyond how she was fed in the early days of her life. She is thriving—and thats all I ever wanted.
Now, with my youngest, Noah Weston, I’m back in this sacred space again. Breastfeeding this baby feels like a full-circle moment. This time around I’m calmer now, more grounded, and more in tune with myself. I’ve learned to release the past and lean into the present.
To all the mamas—whether you breastfed for a few weeks, a few months, or a few years—please know: you have done enough. You are enough. Breastfeeding is just one thread in the rich, beautiful tapestry of motherhood.
I honor every version of that journey—mine and yours. I send love to every mom still carrying the weight of what didn’t go as planned. You are seen, you are valued, and the love you give your babies is more than enough.
