Step by Step Parenting

If you’re a mom, you have no doubt heard the “breast is best” versus “fed is best” debate. Moms who breastfeed insist that it’s the superior option, and moms who use formula stand by the fact that a mom who is healthy and happy is more important than the ingredients in their child’s milk.

I have formula-fed, breastfed, and now, I exclusively pump, so I see the pros and cons to all of them. But as someone who is now faced with a difficult decision — continue to exclusively pump or incorporate formula — I’m forced to get honest about what I really want, what I really think, and why I want what I do.

This article is my attempt to do just that.

When I had my first daughter, I was a little on my own when I chose to breastfeed. Most people in my life, not just family, encouraged me to try formula for a variety of reasons.

This way, Dad can feed her, too, or

It’s more convenient, or

It’s easier for you too leave, or

It will make vacations easier, and so on.

Looking back, none of these were great reasons. Breastfeeding doesn’t mean dads can never feed, not having to wash a bunch of bottles is also convenient, and I’m not sure formula makes vacations any easier if your baby can drink from the tap just fine.

But I didn’t know that at the time. Because of the lack of support, and also because breastfeeding is hard, I switched to formula right after my daughter turned three months old. It was a relief to no longer have to guess if she was eating enough. It was a relief to be allow other people to feed her without me needing to pump. And yet…

My mental health got worse, not better.

I immediately gained a lot of weight, which didn’t help my mental health either.

And I plummeted in a deep postpartum depression that I didn’t recover from until my daughter was eighteen months old.

That’s uncomfortable to admit because it doesn’t fit the narrative that we’re typically told about formula feeding. Many moms tout that “fed is best” because a happy mom is what’s most important for baby’s health, and I don’t disagree with that. A lot of times, switching to formula removes stress and anxiety from moms, and allows them to heal and be more present with their baby.

I’m not discounting those experiences, it just wasn’t my experience. Switching to formula made me feel worse, not better, but by the time I realized that, it was too late.

In the six years that have passed since then, I have learned more about pregnancy, childbirth, postpartum, and breastfeeding.

On the one hand, I am glad to be more educated on those topics now, but on the other hand, my heart breaks for the twenty-year-old version of me who was basically flying blind. Twenty is so young to become a mom.

I don’t think I fully understood back then that, at least in some ways, breastmilk is superior to formula. A mom’s breastmilk is perfectly tailored to her baby. Breastmilk from day two of life is different than breastmilk from six months in. It provides custom antibodies to baby if mom or baby are sick. Breastmilk is ever-changing, which is impossible to replicate with formula.

It’s not just about baby, either. There are also so many health benefits to the moms who breastfeed. The longer a mom breastfeeds, the lower her chances are of developing breast cancer, ovarian cancer, type 2 diabetes, cardiovascular disease, and more. Additionally, breastfeeding can also lower a mom’s risk for postpartum depression and anxiety.

Once I became more educated about breastfeeding — not even just about the benefits, but also about how difficult it is, and how that’s normal the first several weeks — I was determined to try breastfeeding again.

But then I found out I was expecting twins.

Suddenly, I no longer cared about any of the health benefits of breastfeeding. I was concerned about the cost of formula-feeding two babies.

If we relied solely on formula, we were looking at spending upwards of $500 a month. Not wanting to carve such a hole into our monthly budget, I purchased pumps, nursing pads, milk storage bags, nipple butter, and anything else I would need for a successful breastfeeding journey. I headed into L&D knowing that I would likely have formula pushed on me, but ready to refuse it anyways.

We ended up staying in the hospital four days after the twins were born because they lost so much weight. The older twin would latch, but then drift off to sleep, whereas the younger one would just scream at my nipple, beating her little angry fists against my breasts with all the ferocity that a four-and-a-half pound baby could muster.

The wonderful lactation consultants brought me a hospital-grade pump, and they helped me all throughout that first night to pump enough for the twins. I remember how excited we all were when I pumped over 50 mL that first night. The milk was definitely there, they just ate better from a bottle than they did at the breast.

Ok, I remember thinking, we can make this work.

Within one week of being home from the hospital, I reached the conclusion that exclusively pumping had to be the most difficult way to feed a baby. I had done formula, and I had done breastfeeding, but this… this was the worst.

If hand-washing bottles times two wasn’t enough, I was having to wash my pump, too. And since I had to pump constantly to maintain supply, this meant I would spend 15-30 minutes pumping every few hours.

Then 15-30 minutes storing the milk, washing the pump, and prepping bottles.

Then I would have maybe 90 minutes tops to eat, shower, clean, sleep, or whatever else needed to be done.

And then I had to hand dry the pump and start again.

This schedule continued straight through the night, too. It was brutal.

After a week, a family member who took pity on us gifted us the Momcozy bottle washer, and that helped to lighten the load. But I was still washing my pump so often that my hands were cracked and bleeding, so I purchased a second set of pump parts to eliminate how often I needed to wash them.

It was inconvenient, and as it turns out, expensive, but baby girls were happy and I was making milk tailored to exactly what they needed. I told myself that was all that mattered.

When I was only five weeks postpartum, I returned to work and school full-time, so I had to learn how to take the whole production on the road. I was placed continually out of my comfort zone as I had to advocate for pump breaks at work, at court, at school, at mediations, during finals. Still, I made it work.

As a way to celebrate every milestone along the way, I ordered candles from Amazon and started the tradition of buying myself a treat on the 23rd of every month. It was my way of saying, “Good job, Megan! You got this! You’re doing this!”

Around three months in, though, things began to take a turn for the worse.

After a rough pregnancy, I had really been looking forward to getting back into running, and was hoping it would help me feel more like myself again for the first time in almost a year. The first few weeks were great, and I had an amazing time catching up with my running friends on 5:00am runs.

But then my milk supply started to drop.

I tried to stay hydrated and fuel the best I could, but I just couldn’t keep up with the demands of both breastfeeding twins and going for 5+ mile runs. Even once I stopped running to try and regain my supply, it never caught all the way back up. I was still producing, by singleton standards, a crazy amount of milk — upwards of 50 ounces a day — but it always seemed to fall just short of what the twins needed.

Then, my cycle returned for the first time since giving birth, and my supply suffered another slight dip. Not only was I not pumping enough milk, but I was struggling with intense cramps and nausea that worsened during every pumping session. I couldn’t help but laugh, because it was a little insane that I was bleeding and lactating at the same time.

I had started a freezer stash early on with hopes of using it for the last month or so before the twins’ first birthday. That way, I wouldn’t have to pump for the full year, but the girls would still get my milk for the full year.

We began to dip into my freezer stash. I had started it with hopes of being able to end my pumping journey around ten or eleven months postpartum. But over the next several weeks, I watched my stash that I worked so hard to build rapidly dwindle, and I couldn’t help but wonder, What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I just make enough milk for my babies?

I had said from the beginning that I was going to exclusively pump for a whole year, but by four months, it was obvious that, barring a miracle, it was not going to happen.

And that brings us to today.

I am faced with two options:

1. Work as hard as I can to increase my milk supply and continue to exclusively pump for as long as possible.
2. Introduce formula to supplement some feeding sessions.

As I type that, I realize that there really aren’t two options. I might be successful with (1), but eventually, my freezer stash will run out. I cannot avoid the inevitable forever.

When I started weighing my options, I was surprised at how resistant I was to introducing formula. I told myself that I was being prideful by not wanting to give up pumping, and that I only wanted to be able to say, “I exclusively pumped for a year,” to feed my ego.

But the truth is so much more nuanced than that. The truth is, I’m scared to notexclusively pump.

A surface-level concern I have is that once I stop pumping, I will gain weight and become depressed just like I did the first time I quit breastfeeding.

Pumping also makes me feel useful. Right now, my husband does so. much. He handles every single night feed, he helps me stay on top of washing all of the bottles and pump parts. I already feel guilty that I don’t help enough, but I always remind myself that I’m the sole food source for two humans, so I’m doing more than enough.

So what happens when I’m not the sole food source for two humans?

I know that there are so many others way that I am a good mom, but I’m worried I will struggle to recognize them when I’m no longer a dairy cow.

And finally, the reason that weighs the heaviest on me, I feel a little bit like a quitter. Like a failure. I had sworn up and down at the beginning of this pregnancy that I was going to breastfeed for a year, no matter what. People warned me how extremely difficult that was with twins, but nothing swayed my decision. After so many months convincing myself that I was going to exclusively breastfeed for a year, no matter the cost, it’s a really hard pill to swallow that that’s just not going to happen.

At the end of the day, I know that I am not a failure for not being able to pump over 60 ounces of breastmilk every day. That’s insane. I also know that my twins and I will be okay once formula is introduced. I know that I am a “useful” mom, whether or not I’m pumping. Besides, I’m pretty sure the definition of a “useful mom” is a mom who deeply loves her kids and tries her best to take care of them. I am hard on myself as a mother (aren’t we all?) but I can’t deny that both of those things are true.

I am a good mom, no matter how I feed my babies. My body has given months of blood, sweat, and tears towards producing enough milk to feed them. Rather than criticize my body for not being able to do that for as long as I had liked, I am going to choose to be proud of my body for how incredibly hard she has worked the past twelve months.

I grew two babies, and carried them all the way to 38 weeks.

I birthed them, and it was truly the most beautiful birthing experience ever.

I fed them entirely on my own for nearly five months, sacrificing amounts of sleep and sanity that I didn’t know I had to lose.

In light of all of that, who gives a f*ck if I need formula?!

Well, I do, a little. But I’ll get over it.

Until next time!

❤ Megan

Read about my birth story with the twins here:

The Day I Became a Twin Mom

Read more about how I balance pumping with parenting and working here:

A Day in the Life of a Working Mom

Read more about the newborn phase with twins here:

The Newborn Phase with Twins Isn’t Actually That Bad

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