Why do I feel guilty for hating breastfeeding?

I thought it would be magical. That moment when they latch.
The quiet glow of connection.
The way everyone made it sound — natural. Bonding. Beautiful.

But it didn’t feel like that for me.

It hurt. It drained me.
It made me flinch when I heard the hunger cry.

And I hated it.

But what I hated even more… was me.
For not loving it.
For wishing someone else could just feed them. For staring at the pump like it was a machine of war. For every time I cried while trying to make it work.

No one warned me it could feel like this —like a job I couldn’t quit, like a performance I was failing at daily, like I was betraying my babies by dreading something “so natural.”

And with twins?
It was constant.
One latched, the other screaming. My shirt always wet. My body not my own.
Just this open buffet, 24/7.

I remember one night, after another painful latch, I sat on the edge of the bed and whispered to no one, “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

And then I cried harder —because I thought saying that made me a bad mom.

But here’s the truth I wish someone had told me sooner:
You can love your baby and hate breastfeeding.
Both can be true.

And choosing your mental health doesn’t make you selfish.
It makes you sane. It makes you human.

For me, the shift didn’t come from forcing myself to keep going —It came when I let go of the shame. When I gave myself permission to find another way.
When I stopped tying my worth to ounces and latch angles and feeding logs.

When I let softness in —with a bra that didn’t make me wince.
With postpartum self-care that reminded me I deserved comfort too.
With grace, not guilt.

If you’ve ever searched “why do I hate breastfeeding but feel guilty” or whispered “I can’t keep doing this” in the dark... Please hear me: you’re not broken.
You’re not failing.

You’re allowed to feel what you feel.
And you’re still a good mom.

Love,
Lina P.