I did not think I would be donating breast milk back when I was pregnant. To be completely honest, it was never the plan. I knew I wanted to exclusively breastfeed my baby but never gave much thought to what I’d do with the extra milk. I did not know how much extra there would be, or if there would be milk at all. As a postpartum doula, I worked with mothers who struggled with their own supply so I knew it could be an obstacle I would also face. When I started using a haakaa to catch the letdown from the other breast, I was quickly filling it. I informed myself on storing and freezing. In the first 20 days of my baby’s life, I filled my freezer with 200 ounces of human milk. What if I never used a haakaa and let a nursing pad absorb all this milk? What if these 200 ounces were never collected, were poured down the drain or thrown in the laundry one pad at a time? I couldn’t imagine finding myself in need of breast milk and knowing the hundreds of ounces I took for granted and let go to waste. Intrusive thoughts in the first weeks following birth kept telling me that I would die and there would be no one to feed my baby. I had to protect myself from harm because I needed to protect my milk. I had to rest, stay indoors and be careful because if I had to be hospitalized, my husband would have to get formula and we did not want to feed our baby formula. I stored milk, bag by bag, knowing if something happened to me, my husband could continue feeding breast milk to my daughter. I was stockpiling milk in preparation for my death. But then I slept and had a nutritious meal (highly recommend) and realized I was stockpiling because I don’t like wasting things I value — especially something as important and temporary as the liquid gold that is human milk.
In my doula course, I learned about breastfeeding (bodyfeeding or chestfeeding) and supporting mothers and parents through that journey. Our DONA International trainer explained the recommended ways to best feed a baby as follows:
1) baby’s mother’s breast milk at the breast
2) baby’s mother’s breast milk via bottle, cup or tube
3) another mother’s breast milk
4) formula or artificial baby milk
Remembering this, I looked at my overflowing freezer and wondered if mothers in my community would need breast milk. One of my doula clients was using donated breast milk through a supplemental feeding system releasing milk through a small tube into a nipple shield at mom’s breast. She was so determined to feed her baby human milk at her breast even though she was not producing an efficient supply for her baby’s needs. She worked tirelessly to get her daughter to drink donor milk at her own breast. With her in mind, I went online to find moms in need. I joined groups like Human Milk 4 Human Babies and mom groups in my city. From there, I started reading what moms were looking for and what donors could provide. Turns out, what is even more in demand is not simply breast milk but milk from a mom who consumes a dairy-free diet.
When I had my daughter, I decided to cut out all dairy products to prevent intestinal issues, intolerances and colic. Every provider told me if my baby was experiencing colic, I should cut out dairy immediately. I was already aware of studies on the link between cow’s milk and chronic constipation in children. To get a head start, I cut it out completely before I even had her in my arms. If I could prevent ever getting to a point where she is screaming in pain to let me know cow’s milk protein is bad for her, or where I would have to mix laxatives in her milk, by simply eliminating dairy from my already mostly dairy-free diet, I would do it in a heartbeat. I’m not just saying I don’t drink milk, eat yogurt or cheese. If there is a slight bit of milk powder in something, or if it says ‘‘may contain traces of milk’’, I won’t touch it. Receiving food is wonderful during the fourth trimester, but when you adopt a strict diet to do what you believe is best for your little one and it’s not respected, it can be a major setback for a family. One person’s “it’s just butter” can become a new mom’s sleepless night with crying and cramping and stress that could have been prevented. And no matter how clear you are with people that you don’t eat dairy or soy or nuts or whatever it is you choose to eliminate during this time, you’ll still have to triple check everything. My baby doesn’t have colic and is rarely ever fussy — we are very grateful. Does it have anything to do with me being dairy-free? I can’t know for sure. But though some people have told me to just go ahead and eat dairy because my daughter doesn’t have colic, I still don’t just in case. I won’t risk a digestive upset in my baby by eating something just because someone made it for me. And because I don’t like wasting food, if it doesn’t respect my restrictions, you can be sure my husband will eat it.
To avoid waste, the milk I was catching in my haakaa was packaged and stored from day one. I posted in a group offering my milk to a mom in need. One mother quickly reached out about her baby being underweight and needing more milk than she could produce. I took a drive to the city and dropped off 195 ounces to feed her newborn. I thought about the stress and constant anxiety this poor mom faced every day not being able to feed her child. Though she really didn’t need to explain to me why she needed the milk, I’m always honoured when moms choose to share their story with me. Being able to help her felt like magic in my bones.
I consider myself to be a generous person. My husband would tell you I’m too generous. I have inconvenienced us into many situations due to things I offered people out of the goodness of my heart. I go above and beyond for people, whether I know them, don’t know them or whether they deserve it at all. I have found myself dragging others into my generosity to a point where it has caused arguments. It’s not about being liked or being seen as a good person, because to be honest, most people I did outrageously nice things for I knew I’d never see again. It’s about the feeling I get inside when I can help better someone’s life in a given moment. It’s doing something not many people would do for nothing in return. It’s spreading hope that there is still kindness out there, even the absurd kind where someone will offer to drive 4 hours to pick up a Christmas ornament for a stranger (true story). But that feeling of electricity in my veins when someone gets to experience a no-strings-attached kind of generosity, when people find themselves on the receiving end of pure goodness, that is the magic I want to feel and spread. That is exactly what I found when I dropped off that first batch of milk, except no one was inconvenienced by my generosity. It’s something I get to do with my daughter and it is magical each and every single time.
The feeling I get from donating breast milk, paired with my obsession with its value and not wanting it to go waste, is why I’m a donor. Not long after, I received a call from my cousin who just welcomed a beautiful baby boy. Her milk hadn’t come in and the midwives wanted her to start supplementing with formula because baby was losing weight and was on the smaller side. She asked if I could help, as she preferred using another mom’s milk. I packed up my daughter in her carseat, filled a cooler box with milk bags and drove to Nepean to deliver milk to my cousin, her partner and the newest addition to our extended family. It was extra special because it was her. The same magical feeling in my bones appeared. As a new mom, all I did the first week was worry. I know how postpartum can be. As a doula, I’ve worked with mothers who had no help, single moms by choice, moms with severe postpartum depression and moms with multiples. I know what postpartum can look like on all ends of the spectrum. The last thing we should worry about is being able to feed our baby sufficient milk and the kind that is aligned with our values and choices. Alleviating that stress for a mom feels like magic. And that magic is what always tells me I’m on the right track, on my path, answering to my mission on this Earth. Follow the magical feeling and you will find your calling and purpose.
The magical feeling for me comes through the act of giving. My passion for birth and postpartum work, preparenting, pregnancy and motherhood, paired with this new adventure I’m on as a human milk donor, sets my soul on fire. I was tagged by a friend in a post where a mom explained that her son developed a soy and dairy allergy, and they were running out of dairy-free breast milk. Their dairy-free formula is backorder until April. She was desperate. “We just got his gut mostly under control (…) I'm heartbroken thinking I'll be having to give him dairy formula just to get him fed if I can't find more dairy-free breast milk.” Reading this post knowing I had what she needed sent the magic up my spine into my hands as I stopped myself in middle of dinner to answer this mom. I wanted her to know she had help. That she could breathe. That I had what she needed. The next morning, she picked up 80 ounces from my house. I looked at my husband: “Do you think I’m going to be the mom who breastfeeds her little one and pumps on the side to feed other babies?” He looked at me and smiled. That wasn’t even a question. I was already that mom. My pump parts were in the sterilizer and I had alarms set on my phone.
In my self-development and spiritual journey, I learned that what feels like magic is God’s work through you. For the purpose of being inclusive to all Gods and connecting with everyone’s beliefs, I will call the higher power Love, capital L. The feeling I get when I donate milk is Love working through me. The feeling I get when I do something selfless, no matter how inconvenient or absurd it may seem to others, is Love. Sometimes I know it will happen, like every time I find a mom in need of milk now, I know Love is there with me when we deliver the bags. But sometimes it surprises me. I recently felt compelled after a postpartum massage to tell my massage therapist why I chose her to be apart of my care team during my pregnancy. I told her how maternal she was, how I felt like I was being cared for by a mother and I sought that out in my providers. She hugged me and cried. I stayed silent and held space for her. She said she had been trying to conceive for ten years. There it was. The magic. It came over me and wrapped her up in my arms again. It was Love, working through me, letting this woman know that she is innately maternal and she shows up as a motherly presence and touch for other women whether she has a child or not. I didn’t do that, Love did.
There are thousands of ways people have showed up as Love for me. From friends to strangers, Love works through all of us, from others to us and from us to others. Paying attention to these moments and choosing to be in partnership with Love in all we do will make for a better tomorrow. We all have different missions. We all serve Love in different ways and deliver unique messages. We show up as Love and allow It to come through us, into the world, as us. I don’t consider myself a religious person. I have a complex relationship with religion and spirituality. But I interpret the magical feeling I get as Love manifesting through me and telling me I’m fulfilling my mission. And if Love is God, lately, I’ve been finding God in my breastmilk.
The cousin here 🙋🏻♀️
The moment we received the donated breast milk all our worries disappeared. We felt like we had a plan and we were in control. In one day my baby boy had gained 3oz with breastfeeding and supplementing with the donated breast milk, we were hoping for 1oz!
Not long After that my milk came, but the difference knowing we had backup to feed a hungry newborn made our transition home that much better and far less stressful!
And knowing it came from family made it that much more special to us, we can’t thank you and the people who designed the Haaka enough ;)