Guilt Over Not BreastFeeding

I have a confession. 

Michael was not breastfed.

I tried, I really did. A few hours after he was born he latched badly and one of my nipples became black and blue. I spent all day in the hospital asking for a lactation consultant that never came. The next day, one came to my hospital room, and after an hour of trying to get Michael to latch, I was told not to feed him a bottle, because then he would never latch. So he screamed, for days. He wouldn't nurse. He lost weight. The pediatrician finally convinced me to give him formula.

There it is, Michael was formula feed!!(Ducking, feel free to yell at me. I know I should have pumped, but I was told not to, and when I tried my hurt breast didn't cooperate). Here's my dirty little secret, parts of it were nice. Doug was able to get up in the middle of the night and feed him. At 3 weeks old, my sister took him over night so I could go to a function and get some sleep. I was able to leave him to get a manicure, or go to the mall for a few hours.

That being said, I deeply regret not nursing. Every time Michael gets sick I think it is because I didn't nurse. I worry about all the studies about intelligence, and antibodies. I know nursing is better, I believe nursing is better. It just didn't work for me, or more specifically, for Michael.

I'm in a playgroup and every other mom nursed. One is the daughter-in-law of a lactation consultant. I spent hours listening to various nursing conversations. They never judged, but I always felt judged. Mostly because I was judged, by others. I've heard it all, someone once told me "they knew I wouldn't nurse because I'm too lazy."

Not nursing is the biggest regret of my life. If only I had tried harder.

Cross-posted on Jodi's personal blog, Jodifur.