Nursing Your Baby Ft. LactNation

Today I sit down with Hareem from LactNation, a platform that is quietly changing how Pakistani mothers experience breastfeeding. This conversation is not about the perfect latch or the dreamy first feed. It is about the real stuff. The pain, the guilt, the mother in law looking at your baby and declaring your milk ‘weak’, the loneliness of a 2am feed when your body is drained and your mind is screaming for rest. Hareem listens, she does not sugarcoat. And by the end, I felt less alone, and I think you will too.

The first feed is not a magic moment

Hareem and I both laughed at the lie we were sold: that breastfeeding is purely instinctive, that the baby will just ‘know’, that it will be beautiful from the first minute. That is not true for most of us. She told me so many women come to her feeling broken because the baby would not latch, or the milk did not come in, or the pain was unbearable. “A new mother already has a hundred things on her plate and the pressure to breastfeed perfectly from day one breaks her before she even starts,” she said. The reality is that both mother and baby are learning. The baby’s mouth is tiny, the suck reflex is not always strong, the mother’s body is recovering from birth. This learning curve needs patience, not judgment.

Skin to skin is not just for natural births

One thing Hareem said that I wish every hospital in Pakistan would hear: skin to skin contact is possible and necessary even after a C-section. There is a huge misconception that a mother who has had surgery cannot hold her baby close in those first hours. But it can be done with help, and those first moments of warmth on the mother’s chest regulate the baby’s temperature, heart rate, and breathing. It sets the stage for feeding. “In many hospitals outside Pakistan it is standard. Here, you have to beg for it or educate the staff yourself. That should not be the case,” she shared. A small adjustment like this could change so many early breastfeeding experiences.

Every baby grows differently, like every body grows differently

This part of the conversation hit me hard because I remember staring at my own baby’s growth chart, comparing him to every chubby child on my Facebook feed. Hareem pointed out what should be obvious but feels countercultural in our desi families: you cannot compare a baby whose family has a lean physique to a baby whose family tends to be heavier. “Put all the mothers and fathers in a line, look at their body types, and then look at their babies. They will grow into their own genetic curve,” she explained. The obsession with a goloo moloo, chubby baby has pushed so many women toward formula unnecessarily. Your milk is not ‘light’ or ‘useless’. It is exactly what your child needs, changing color, consistency, and nutrients according to the weather, the time of day, and the baby’s own saliva signals. Hareem reminded me that the mother who carried her baby for nine months does not suddenly produce milk that does not suit her own child. That idea is a cultural myth, and a harmful one.

The guilt that stays long after

We talked honestly about the mental load. The fear that you are not doing enough, the tearful nights when the baby cried and you thought, “I am failing.” Hareem witnessed this in her consultations over and over. She said some mothers feel such acute pain and anxiety that they develop an aversion to holding their own baby, but they cannot say it out loud. Why? Because if a woman admits, “I do not feel like touching my child right now,” she is branded abnormal or unloving. In a society that already piles on the expectation that a good mother sacrifices everything without complaint, admitting you need a break feels like a confession. “A woman comes to me in tears and tells me she dreads feeding because it hurts and she thinks something is wrong with her,” Hareem said. None of this makes you a bad mother. It makes you a human being in need of support.

You deserve a team, not a verdict

One of the most important things Hareem stressed is that breastfeeding is never a one-woman job. It is a team effort. The hospital, the healthcare provider, the spouse, the mother in law, the friends. Yet in so many homes, the new mother is left to figure it out alone while also managing the cooking, the cleaning, and the elder’s expectations. Hareem asked a sharp question: if the mother is meant to feed the baby every hour or two during the first three months, how is she supposed to also run the house? Someone else has to step in. Hold the baby for ten minutes so she can nap. Bring her water and food while she nurses. Listen to her without offering the quick fix of ‘just give a bottle’. That small act of holding space can protect breastfeeding more than any gadget.

Motherhood is love by every drop, not by perfection

By the end of the conversation, Hareem’s mission became clear. She said she often tells mothers, “I want to work myself out of a job.” She means she wants every woman to have enough knowledge and confidence that she does not need a consultant for every small issue. That is why LactNation exists, to put information in the hands of mothers so they can make informed choices. She talked about the pressure formula companies place on mothers, the way marketing seeps into doctor’s clinics, and how the WHO code to protect breastfeeding is still not fully implemented in Pakistan. Yet, instead of leaving listeners defensive, Hareem gently reminded us that understanding the composition of breastmilk, the immense long-term benefits for immunity and brain development, and the protection against infant mortality rates that are still high in rural areas where unsafe water mixes with formula, is not about shaming mothers who formula feed. It is about giving every mother a real choice.

This episode is not a lecture. It is a long, warm arm around your shoulder. If you are pregnant, listen and feel prepared. If you are in the thick of nursing, listen and feel seen. And if you have a new mother in your life, share this with her, not as advice, but as company for the hard and holy hours she is living.