Feeding Trauma: The Pain No One Talks About
- Amanda Ho
- Oct 4
- 4 min read
Updated: Oct 6
We talk a lot about birth trauma. But what about the trauma that can happen afterward in the everyday act of feeding a baby?
For many parents, infant feeding is imagined as a natural, bonding, beautiful experience. But in reality, it can also become one of the most painful chapters of early parenthood - not just physically, but emotionally. And yet, this kind of trauma often goes unnamed, minimized, or misunderstood.
The Silence Around Feeding Struggles
When feeding doesn’t go as planned, the advice parents hear is usually technical:
“Just pump more.”
“Top up with a bottle.”
“Try this formula.”
On the surface, that sounds like problem-solving. But beneath it, many parents are quietly carrying heavier messages:
“I didn’t breastfeed enough.”
“I didn’t pump enough.”
“I gave up too soon.”
“I failed.”
I’ve heard these words over and over again in my work as a NICU nurse and lactation consultant. I’ve seen guilt, shame, and grief pile up in the shadow of something as “everyday” as feeding.
Feeding struggles aren’t just practical problems - they are emotional wounds that touch on identity, confidence, and self-worth. To make things harder, parents often face a flood of advice from well-meaning friends or social media, adding another layer of pressure and confusion.
What Is Feeding Trauma?
Feeding trauma is the emotional and psychological distress that happens when infant feeding becomes a source of pain, shame, or fear instead of connection. Unlike birth trauma, which often stems from one acute event, feeding trauma can repeat itself daily. Every feed can reopen the wound.
It can take many forms:
NICU experiences: Parents in the NICU often feel stripped of the natural process of trial and error that builds confidence. Doctors and nurses (myself included) sometimes have to step in to manage feeding, and while this is necessary for safety, it can rob parents of precious moments of learning and attunement. Instead of easing into parenting, NICU moms and dads are suddenly told when and how to feed — which can leave them feeling powerless.
Tongue-tie and dismissed concerns: I’ve had mothers cry in my office after months of being brushed off by pediatricians when they raised concerns about reflux, clicking sounds, blisters, slow weight gain, or constant snacking. When those concerns are finally linked to oral restrictions like tongue-tie, the tears that follow aren’t just about relief — they’re about validation. The feeling of “I knew something wasn’t right, and nobody believed me” is deeply traumatic in itself.
When the baby can’t get enough: Some mothers have plenty of milk, but because of weak suck or poor transfer, the baby isn’t satisfied. The baby stays hungry. The mother feels like her body is failing at its most basic job — even when that’s not true.
The silent struggle: In the age of Google and Reddit, many parents are up at 2 a.m. searching for answers. They try everything: lactation cookies, teas, herbs, even beer. Beneath those hopeful experiments is quiet desperation: Please, let something work.
The mind game of milk-making: For parents who are already anxious, perfectionistic, or self-critical, feeding challenges can feel like proof of their deepest fear: I’m not good enough. Milk-making becomes a psychological battleground — one where every ounce measures worth.
Why It Matters
Feeding isn’t just about nutrition. It’s about bonding, identity, and confidence as a parent.
When feeding becomes traumatic, parents may relive that distress multiple times a day — with every latch, every pump session, every top-up. It’s not a single wound; it’s a recurring one.
Left unacknowledged, feeding trauma can contribute to postpartum depression, anxiety, and a sense of disconnection from both the baby and the self. And yet, it rarely gets the recognition that birth trauma does.
It’s time we change that.
What Helps
Healing feeding trauma requires more than quick fixes. It asks for a new lens - one that is compassionate, validating, and trauma-informed.
Over the years, I’ve seen the same patterns show up again and again. Different stories, same pain points: mothers who felt unseen, unheard, and uncertain. For a long time, I didn’t have the words for what I was witnessing.
Now, I do.
As I begin my Master’s in Counselling Psychology, I’m finally connecting the dots between the emotional patterns I’ve seen in lactation work and the psychological wounds that accompany them. I’ve realized that feeding trauma deserves its own name, definition, and dedicated approach to healing.
This is the beginning of that work - of naming it, studying it, and building interventions that truly support parents through it.
Because once we name something, we can begin to heal it.
Here’s where healing can begin:
Compassionate care: Listening deeply and without judgment can be more healing than any technique.
Normalize, don’t minimize: Feeding struggles do not mean failure — they show how profoundly human the process really is.
Integrated support: True healing means addressing the body and the mind together.
Hope and reframing: Naming the trauma opens the door to rewriting the story with compassion and possibility.
If you’ve experienced feeding trauma, you’re not alone. You didn’t fail. You didn’t “give up.” What you went through matters.
Just as we’ve begun to recognize birth trauma as real and valid, it’s time we extend that same recognition to feeding trauma. Because feeding is not just about keeping a baby alive — it’s about nourishing the relationship between parent and child. And that relationship deserves care, compassion, and healing.
This is where my next chapter begins — studying, defining, and building pathways for healing in this space. My hope is that, one day, no parent will have to walk through feeding trauma without being seen, supported, and understood.
🪶 Author Note
Written by Amanda Ho, RN, IBCLC, and soon-to-be psychotherapist. Through her work with families in both hospital and community settings, she’s witnessed how deeply infant feeding challenges can affect emotional well-being. Now pursuing her Master’s in Counselling Psychology, Amanda is focused on defining and addressing feeding trauma — bridging the gap between mental health and lactation care.
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