Blame it on our Puritan ancestors, MTV, infant formula makers, work environments, lack of knowledge, lack of support—take your pick. The bottom line is that there are a myriad of reasons why mothers choose not to breastfeed or breastfeed for only a short time. And while the proportion of babies who were ever breastfed increased to 77 percent in 2006-2007 from 60 percent in 1993-1994, according to a recent CDC survey, the rates of exclusive breastfeeding remain well below the Healthy People 2010 targets.

Culture Counts
In a perfect world, breastfeeding is perceived as normal, and mothers are confident in their ability to breastfeed. But this isn’t a perfect world. This is a world where 12 states restrict breastfeeding in public; where one-third to one-half of all births are cesarean births; where mothers and babies are separated after birth; where health care providers get little or no breastfeeding education; and where countless women “try” to breastfeed, “fail,” and then feel “guilty”.

And why am I telling you this? Because I received yet another phone call from a young mother, wanting desperately for someone to tell her that she was a good mother, despite not being able to breastfeed. This particular mom was not the typical mom—too little knowledge plus too little support equals too little milk. This was a mom who made every effort to be well-informed, only to find out that she was misinformed.

And why am I telling you this? Because you may be among the breastfeeding advocates who sometimes err on the side of passion and recommend breastfeeding without considering the realities of each individual’s situation. And while I know that your intentions are good, you know what they say about good intentions?

Personally, I gave up long ago on should, would, and could. A mother knows that she should breastfeed, and would breastfeed, if she could breastfeed. I focus instead on what and how. What do you know about breastfeeding? And how can I help?

What follows is one mother’s story, Pauline Lupercio’s, who just happens to be a regular contributor to baby gooroo. Her story is shared with permission.

Why I don’t feel guilty about formula-feeding (anymore)

Eight months plus one day after I stopped breastfeeding, I gave my baby a bottle of formula without feeling guilty. It was a quiet moment of acceptance. And it felt wonderful. As you read my story, please know that I am not looking for approval. I’m just hoping to avoid condemnation. And I’m sharing my story, in the hope that other mothers will benefit from my experience.

From old school to new school
I don’t come from a family of attachment-parenting, baby-wearing, homemade baby food-making, “the-latest-research-indicates” women. I am first-generation Mexican-American and my family is very traditional—mothers are told to let their babies “cry it out,” cereal is added to the bottle of formula so that babies will “sleep longer,” and baby carriers and slings were non-existent. And then I came along—independent, modern, outspoken—a writer by profession.

I had little knowledge of parenting and little interest in parenting-related topics BB (before baby), but after giving birth, I was so consumed by all things baby, that I decided to creat my very own blog.

I don’t know if my career as a writer dictated my parenting style, or if my penchant for research influenced me, but I soon found myself surfing the web for authoritative guidance on everything from birth options to feeding options.

I opted for natural childbirth and exclusive breastfeeding. Obvious choices. But at 37 weeks gestation, my labor was induced after my blood pressure became dangerously high. My daughter showed little interest in breastfeeding, but I was determined to succeed, if for no other reason than to prove to my family that I could do it. I gave little thought to the fact that I had had breast reduction surgery five years earlier, and no one indicated that the inverted nipple on my right breast might be cause for concern.

After several unsuccessful attempts at getting Buttercup to latch on, I decided I needed some help. So I contacted a lactation consultant who was recommended by the hospital staff. She felt that because Buttercup had been born a little early, she might not have the ability to latch on and suckle. So she suggested we give her expressed breastmilk in a cup, and provided me with a hospital grade electric breast pump so that I could increase my milk production.

In the meantime, I tried to ignore the container of formula my husband had secured (just in case).

“I’m proud of you for trying so hard,” he said, when he saw the look on my face. “But you don’t need to prove anything to anybody.”

Let (ting myself) down
I had fooled myself into thinking that breastfeeding didn’t matter, until I realized that I might not be able to breastfeed. My breastfeeding plan had become a disaster plan, complete with nipple shields, breast pumps, bottles, cups, formula—all the things I wanted to avoid.

I wish now that I had read Amy’s post or known about MOBI Motherhood International. I desperately needed a sympathetic and understanding shoulder to cry on, but none could be found. My sister-in-law suggested that I contact a local breastfeeding support group, which I did. But when I expressed to a member of the support group my concerns about having had breast reduction surgery, I was told that lots of women have breast reduction surgery and breastfeed successfully. I simply needed to try harder. What the support group member failed to tell me, was that I might need to redefine success.

This same person told me to throw away the bottles and nipples and get the formula out of my house, because mothers who use bottles and formula are more likely to stop breastfeeding. She said that eventually my baby would get hungry enough to not care where the milk was coming from. At that point, I hung up. Surely I was the world’s worst mother.

I’d rather fight than switch
It would have been easy to transition to formula. Buttercup was nearly 4 weeks old and was already taking more formula than breastmilk. But I was determined to breastfeed for as long as possible.

Each hour-long breastfeeding was followed by a four-ounce bottle of formula. While Dad offered the bottle, I pumped in an effort to keep up some production. Even small amounts of breastmilk were handled with care and frozen for later use.

I maintained this routine around the clock—breastfeed, breast pump, and freeze for later use, determined to breastfeed at least six weeks. But after the third trip to the hospital with a breast infection that was so severe, I had to see an infectious disease specialist, I knew I had to rethink my decision. I had a high fever and chills, and my breast looked like an over-ripe tomato. I was hospitalized and given antibiotics for five days. On my way home from the hospital, my husband and I stopped at the store to purchase several cans of formula—my fate was sealed.

The right decision
In my heart, I knew I was making the right decision, but that didn’t make it any easier. It wasn’t until several weeks later, when I held my baby in my arms, that I realized that I had never taken the opportunity to really get to know my baby, to develop that bond that so many mothers talk about. As I held Buttercup in my arms, I began to cry.

Time has passed, and I have managed to let go of the anger and the guilt. I still have regrets, but in my heart I know it wasn’t meant to be.

Even now, when I am asked, “Did you breastfeed?” I find it hard to say, “I tried but I couldn’t.”

I know that some people will think that I gave up too soon; that I should have tried harder; that I wasn’t truly committed. And that’s okay.

I ask, only, that you respect my decision, knowing that I respect yours.