One of the moms in our group is in tears again. I hold my baby close, using one arm to cradle her while I try to discreetly pass a rattle to the nearest little one who’s reaching for it. The atmosphere is heavy with emotions as we listen to her sobbing explanation.
Nearby, another mom is rummaging through her bag, tossing out a shirt, bib, keys, crushed granola bar, tubes of nipple cream, diaper cream, Vaseline, crumpled pediatrician paperwork, wipes, and a pink stuffed cat, all in a frantic search for the last diaper. Thankfully, she manages to keep her own tears—and her baby’s—at bay for the moment.
Crying is a common occurrence among new parents, whether from the physical toll of childbirth or the emotional challenges that follow. The overwhelming self-doubt and pressures can lead to tears shed every day. Feelings about leaving a career behind to nurture a fragile life, or the apprehension of returning to work while leaving a dependent baby can be daunting. When you add in postpartum depression, crying becomes a regular part of life.
On this particular day in our parent-baby group, one mom, whom I’ll refer to as “Career-Driven Mom,” is particularly upset because she struggles to produce enough breast milk. I happen to have an ample stash of milk in my freezer, and I want to help.
After the meeting, I approach Career-Driven Mom and offer my sympathy, then propose sharing some of my extra milk. While she appreciates the gesture, she declines my offer.
There’s a vast network of parents who seek breast milk, driven by the societal push to breastfeed and the community support found through milk banks, Facebook groups, and lactation meetups. I only discovered this world once I became pregnant and started to think seriously about breastfeeding.
I learned that milk flows differently than I had anticipated, how many times a day a baby would need to nurse, and the significant calorie intake required for nursing. After doing the calculations, I realized I had more than enough milk stored up. Yet, Career-Driven Mom didn’t want it.
Later, another mom, Eco-Chic Mom, who had reached out to the group looking for extra milk, also turned down my offer. She had a baby who struggled to gain weight and wanted to avoid any potential risks associated with my breast milk, which could contain traces of the antidepressants prescribed to me. Even though my baby thrived on it, she understandably didn’t want to take the chance.
That realization left me feeling a bit unclean, leading to guilt about my need for medication. I started to doubt my breastfeeding journey, wondering if I could manage without the help of my antidepressants. Wouldn’t that make me a better mom?
According to research from The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists, between 14 and 23 percent of American women experience depression during pregnancy, with postpartum depression affecting about 15 percent. Untreated, it can impact child development. Despite this knowledge, I struggled with guilt over needing medication that was crucial for my mental health yet potentially problematic for my baby.
Judgment from others added to my emotional burden, making me feel scrutinized for my choices. However, without my medication, I wouldn’t be able to care for my daughter as she deserved. With it, I could engage fully in her life, enjoying our time together and nurturing our bond.
Despite my surplus of milk sitting in the freezer, it felt like a constant reminder of my shortcomings. Fortunately, another mom informed me about a community network where my extra milk could be put to good use. After posting about my stash in a local Human Milk for Human Babies group, I received several responses within an hour.
I prepared the milk bags and felt like a secret agent during the exchange at a nearby parking lot. Handing over my frozen supply, I felt a strange yet beautiful connection with the mom in the car, knowing my milk would nourish another baby.
Ultimately, someone did want my milk—not just the mom receiving it, but my own daughter, who is now almost 15 months old. I’m grateful for our continued nursing relationship and for the medication that allows me to be present for her.