America's formula shortage and is it time for a new narrative around feeding?
Opinion from an Australian mother (me) whose breastfeeding journey was more brief than she would have hoped for.
Lately, I’ve found myself using the words, “unimaginable", “unfathomable” and “incomprehensible”, more and more. From describing the war in Ukraine to the floods in Northern New South Wales and Queensland, and now the formula shortage in the US. It is with great privilege, I am only writing about the heartache in the world - typing away on my laptop, in my warm and dry home, where my full-bellied son is sitting behind me, combing (more like pulling) my hair.
Reading articles about the realities of mothers’ who fear they will soon be unable to feed their babies as a result of the formula shortage (43% of formula is out of stock at retailers across the US) is all of those words above and more - and it scares the hell out of me. If you haven’t been across the crisis then this article from The Guardian explains what’s happening and why.
To read about the heartache that comes with formula feeding hits home for me. I’m not suggesting I know exactly how it feels to run out of food for my son but the feeling of inadequacy from not breastfeeding is a heavy burden to carry and one I have experienced. As the women in the NYT feature, Amid a Worsening Formula Shortage, Mothers Are Asked: ‘Why Not Breastfeed?’ describes, the shortage only exacerbates and/or resurfaces those feelings:
“And along with the physical demands are emotional ones. Mothers who already may have been beating themselves up for no longer breastfeeding — an activity deeply bound together with the maternal ideal — now have the added burden of fearing that their child won’t get enough nutrition. They are also afraid of being judged.”
I didn’t breastfeed my son as long as I’d hoped for which is the case for 60% of American mothers, according to a study by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. A study which also concluded that mental health, lack of support (at home and in the workplace) and lactation issues as the leading factors that hinder a mother’s ability to breastfeed.
My story goes like this; I breastfed my son for three excruciating months, then expressed full-time for another six gruelling weeks or so before switching to a prescribed formula. I expected to breastfeed for at least the first twelve months but things didn’t go at all like I had planned - a nightmare blend of a poor latch, shocking reflux which went undiagnosed for far too long, and food allergies. All of which led to undiagnosed postnatal anxiety and a swift decline in my supply.
Though there are mothers who would have “pushed through '', endured relactation and made peace with a kicking and screaming baby at their breast; my anxiety towards feeding my beautiful son surpassed my desire to breastfeed. Most questioned why I wasn’t breastfeeding, others stated “I should have kept going” and I felt so much shame about my decision for a long time. I found myself explaining to strangers why I wasn’t breastfeeding as if I had to justify my decision to a random woman at the park.
“He’s a new one… you’re not breastfeeding?”, she questioned.
”Uh no. Well I was but he has really bad reflux and he needed medication and he has allergies so he’s on a prescription formula and is doing much better now.” I blurted out.
I’m still not sure why I felt so much shame. I had a lot of support from my husband, family, and friends, but still that ‘maternal ideal’ was and still is always in the back of my mind, even though my son finally started to thrive (in the medical sense of the word) once we found the correct reflux medication and his tender little tummy was full of lactose-free extensively hydrolysed formula - formula was a savour for us.
Unfortunately, my story is not dissimilar to others, including some of the mothers in the NYT article:
“‘It definitely makes me feel like an inadequate mom, especially because before I had my son, I thought I would breastfeed for at least the first year,’ said Ms. Williams…”
The feelings of failure and guilt are collective, but how maddening and hurtful the comments are that are pushing these already stressed mothers to "just breastfeed”, and publicly shaming them by assuming that they “just aren’t prioritizing”, is unfathomable (there I go again).
I had a valid reason. Others, are seemingly are not as palatable for public consumption. Some just don’t want to, it’s not right for them, and that is more than fine by me. I’m not the one who has to feed their baby. Who has to live in their homes, their bodies or their minds for that matter. Their babies are fed, loved and more than likely thriving, the same way the happy and healthy breastfeeding mums and bubs are too.
The formula shortage is terrifying and it does raise an important question – why are we still pushing the “breast is best” narrative when it is proving to be damaging to the mental health of mothers? We all know nutritionally breast is indeed best, but the nourishment is not the only factor we should be focused on, and the fact we are still dissecting a mother’s decision on whether she breastfeeds or not, only further divides and detracts from the real issue; the lack of support for all mothers and their right to choose.
Claire Zulkey makes a valid point about this in her essay, Selfish Choices:
“The formula-by-choice new mom is enjoying a certain spotlight in the shortage conversation. “Why don’t mothers just breastfeed?” dummies ask, before they regret asking a stupid question when angry folks point out how many parents can’t breastfeed for myriad reasons. The can’ts receive a dispensation over the won’ts—not unlike the abortion conversation. A woman is much more defendable if she terminates her pregnancy due to a health concern or traumatic circumstances around inception. Less easy for people with limited imaginations/empathy/intelligence to root for are women who could have a baby but decide it’s not the right time. It’s similar with the formula-by-choice people. I see them being defended out there but they’re never the first ones brought up when it comes to why parents should have formula. If there was some hypothetical strict rationing of formula, surely the parents who could breastfeed if they just gave it a shot should go to the end of the line compared to those who cannot.”
If you’re reading this and still having trouble grasping how this can happen in the US? Me too. I understand the supply chain issues etc. but why they let it get this far I guess is the real question and I think Elizabeth Spiers’ NYT Opinion piece titled, Imagine a world where men had to breastfeed’ sums it up brilliantly:
“If we could imagine a world where men had to breastfeed their babies — learning how to do it, enduring the frustration of the baby not latching on and the pain of chapped and inflamed breasts and figuring out how to continue to do it despite long hours at work, little support, nowhere to pump and not enough sleep — the formula shortage there would not be so dire. In that alternative reality, it’s hard to imagine that the industry in the United States would be dominated by just a few companies. Instead, I expect that we’d see a multitude of formula start-ups blossoming in Silicon Valley. Formula would not be stigmatized because it’s a choice men would want to have available to them.”
Feeding a baby is hard - whichever way you choose. So, next time you see a mother feeding her baby the best way she knows how, or a friend's voice shakes as she shares she may want to switch to formula; don’t ask her why, instead, ask her how can you help.
In the comments below, I’d love to hear your experience with feeding and if you too, feel we need a new narrative or rather, narratives* around feeding.