🍼 YOU’RE NOT A BAD MOM IF BREASTFEEDING SUCKED.

This is the story of why we fed our baby with plants when formula wasn’t an option—and how I learned to trust my body after trauma.

THE FORMULA WE MADE, AND THE TRUTH THAT MADE US.

Dwindling milk supply. Clogs. Guilt. 2AM guilt spirals. And for me? Some days I felt like a goddess feeding life from my body. Other days? A nervous cow hooked to a machine, praying the milk would come.

I had a home birth on purpose—because I didn’t want strangers looking at my body in a hospital. I’m private and I’m a trauma survivor. I also wasn’t ready to have my chest out all day while my nipples were raw and stretched into tubes like they weren’t mine anymore.

And yet—I wanted to breastfeed. Because I’m Whole Foods Plant-Based. And the second I saw what was in commercial formulas? I knew:

This isn’t food. This is poison.

But my supply was dropping.

So we started making our own. Gently. Carefully. With the deep prayer of two parents doing the best we could with what we had.

💔 I DID EVERYTHING RIGHT, AND IT STILL DIDN’T WORK

I was massaging my breasts. I was sleeping on heating pads. I was pumping on a schedule. I was logging every ounce in a spreadsheet like it was my Bible.

I was saying the affirmations. I was watching videos of Truman while I pumped, trying to make my body believe this baby needed me. I was staring at him with love. I was crying, whispering "I make enough. I am enough."

But the truth is—I didn’t believe it. Not really. Because the milk didn’t come. And I thought I ruined it by pumping instead of breastfeeding. I thought I broke myself.

And in those moments, it didn’t matter that I was eating Whole Food Plant-Based. It didn’t matter that I was resting or co-sleeping or doing all the crunchy mom things. I still felt like a failure.

I was angry. I hated being tethered to the pump. I hated being forced to have my chest out all day while I was in pain. I felt like I had to do everything right, and still my body was betraying me.

But even in those moments, there were flickers of sacred awe—because I’d also cry in bliss. Because my body made a baby. A real, beautiful, thriving baby. And for a moment, I could see the magick again. That I was a magician. That every woman is.

I just couldn’t stay in that place long, because I still felt like I was failing.

⚔️ WHEN BREASTFEEDING ISN’T SAFE: THE PART NO ONE TALKS ABOUT

I’m a sexual trauma survivor. I’ve been raped a lot. I’ve had abusive partners. And when I got pregnant, I knew—I could not do this in a hospital.

It wasn’t just about birth plans or epidurals or crunchy mom vibes. It was about safety.

Because to me, the idea of being touched, examined, seen, exposed—that was more terrifying than labor.

And breastfeeding? That wasn’t just “natural.” It was intimate. Raw. Loaded.

So when people said things like “just latch him more often,” or “your body will know what to do,” I wanted to scream. Because my body knew pain. My body remembered hands that weren’t gentle. My body wasn’t just a milk machine—it was still healing.

So yes, I pumped. Yes, I struggled. Yes, I cried when I had to watch my nipples get sucked until they cracked and stretched to literal length’s I didn’t know were possible. And yes—I was relieved when it ended.

Around six months, my supply was gone. I was deflated—literally and emotionally. But I wasn’t defeated. Because Truman was thriving. And I could finally stop. So I did.

🍼 WHY WE STARTED MAKING OUR OWN FORMULA:

👉 Want the full recipe breakdown? It’s here: What We Fed Our Baby When Formula Wasn’t an Option.

Three months in, my supply was crashing. Truman refused store-bought formula. And we couldn’t pretend it was okay.

We eat Whole Foods Plant-Based, and even the "plant-based" formulas are filled with chemicals, isolates, and inflammatory oils.

So we started with what we had: oats, sweet potatoes, bananas, nutritional yeast, and a liquid vitamin dropper.

It was real food. Real nourishment. And it worked.

💡 CROW TIPS FOR FORMULA PREP (THE SH*T WE FIGURED OUT)

• Dollar Tree strainers are tighter knit than Walmart strainers (better for straining for these tiny bottle head holes)

• Strain 4x minimum if using a level 1 bottle (or until nothing sticks)

• If your baby’s screaming—check the nipple for clogs before you panic

• Real food separates. That’s normal. Strain again. Rinse bottle and head. Try again. Breathe.

🌱 THE PROOF IS IN THE BABY

Truman has never been sick. No colds. No flus. No infections. No ER visits. Only a couple short teething fevers—and that’s it.

He’s strong, smart, happy, healthy, and wildly verbal. We trusted our instincts, and it worked.

Because he was fed with food. With spirit. With love. And maybe even a little magick.

🏡 I ALMOST WENT TO THE HOSPITAL— BECAUSE I THOUGHT I HAD TO

I didn’t even know home birth was an option.

But Sarlon, my husband, remembered a client who had done it. And after watching me cry in the car one day on the way home from a doctor visit, he gently said:

“You know… you could do it at home.”

And something in me broke free.

Seven hours. No meds. No tearing. ALL screaming. Just us. My husband delivered our son with his own hands.

I was relaxed. I was safe. I was home.

(I will share our birth story later..)

🕯️ TO THE PARENT READING THIS.

If you’re crying while reading this, or pulling your hair behind a pump, or trying not to melt down in a baby aisle wondering what the hell you’re doing—let me say this clearly:

As long as you care, you’re doing great.

You are not a failure. You adapt. You keep showing up. And that is holy work.

You can feed your baby with oats and affirmations. With mashed bananas and prayers. With cracked nipples and a Dollar Tree strainer in one hand.

It counts. It works. You matter.

🖤 From one crowparent to another.

👉 Want the full recipe breakdown? It’s here: What We Fed Our Baby When Formula Wasn’t an Option.

💔 What pain or struggle is this blog addressing?

• The shame spiral when milk supply drops

• The trauma of being touched or exposed

• The guilt around formula feeding / or breastfeeding

• The fear of feeding your child something your body doesn’t trust

• Parenting through poverty, exhaustion, and survival mode

💫 What’s the soul win?

• The sacred relief of doing things your way

• A concrete recipe that aligns with your values

• The holy validation that you are already enough

• Hope, humor, and a new path forward