When I look back at my own breastfeeding journey, one truth rises above the exhaustion, the trial-and-error, and even the triumphs: we were not meant to do this alone.
Breastfeeding is a gift from God.
It’s intimate, it’s holy, and it forges a bond between mother and child that words can barely capture.
But in His wisdom, God also designed us for community—to need one another, to encourage one another, and to carry one another through the hardest seasons of life.
This is especially true in motherhood.
The Role of Support in My Own Journey
Support has been the very lifeline that sustained me.
When Mama Vicki and I were both young moms, we didn’t always have the guidance we needed. Yes, we had extended family members who had breastfed, but the consistent, hands-on support we desperately craved wasn’t always there.
Everything shifted when we clung to each other. I still remember the season when my sister, (Vicki's mom) was ill and Vicki stayed with me for six weeks.
We were both breastfeeding our babies, sharing the rhythms of round-the-clock feedings, laundry piles, and everyday chaos. Driving to the hospital with our two little nursing boys. We would take turns going into the ICU to Gram, while the other took care of the boys.
That time bound us together in a way that only shared motherhood can. Looking back, I see clearly that it was community—not just grit—that kept us afloat.
And isn’t that how God designed it?
He created us for relationship, not isolation.
Yes, breastfeeding draws you close to your baby, but it also bonds you to the people who walk alongside you in the journey.
Isolation: A Modern Struggle
One of the most heartbreaking realities I see today is how isolated mothers feel.
Maybe you’re the only breastfeeding mom in your parish, and you feel awkward nursing during Mass.
Maybe in your extended family, no one else breastfed, and you feel like the “weird one”. I’ve been there. In my husband’s family, I was the only one.
Visiting them each year reminded me that I was the oddity, the outlier.
Our culture doesn’t make this any easier. The modern world breeds isolation—suburban homes with closed doors, packed schedules, endless screen time.
It doesn’t naturally create spaces where moms can gather, share stories, or support each other in real time.
That’s why building intentional community is so vital.
Breastfeeding Without Support Feels Overwhelming
We tell women all the time: “Breastfeed, it’s the best for your baby.”
And that’s true. But too often, once a mom leaves the hospital, she’s on her own. Maybe, if she’s lucky, a nurse or lactation consultant helps her with that very first latch. But what happens when she’s home, sore, exhausted, and her baby won’t stop crying?
Postpartum support is where we fall short.
Even if breastfeeding is going “well,” it’s still a massive life change.
It’s like going from middle school to high school. You might be prepared, but the new rules, new expectations, and new environment mean you’re still learning as you go. And just like school transitions are easier when you know older students, breastfeeding is easier when you have a community of moms who’ve gone before you.
Why We Need Each Other
I’ll never forget meeting a young mom at dinner one evening. She had a nine-month-old, and from my perspective, she looked like she “had it together.”
But when I spoke with her, she admitted she didn’t have anyone in her corner.
It reminded me how deceptive appearances can be.
Just because a mom is nine months in doesn’t mean she’s confident or supported. The lie so many of us believe is: “I should be able to do this by myself.”
But the truth is: we were built for community.
We were never meant to figure it all out alone.
Even something as simple as a phone call or a coffee date with another mom can make a world of difference.
Support doesn’t always mean counseling or in-depth advice.
Sometimes it’s just sitting side by side, laughing about the chaos, or offering a tip that worked for your toddler while she’s nursing the new baby.
Building Community in Everyday Life
So how do we even start building this community?
Sometimes we don’t think about it because we’ve never seen it.
We don’t understand what it looks like.
But little by little, we can create those connections.
Start with your family. Your husband is your first line of support. His encouragement matters more than you realize.
Reach out to other moms. Whether it’s at a La Leche League meeting, a parish group, or even striking up a conversation in the cry room at church, take the step.
Don’t underestimate small beginnings. Some of Mama Vicki's dearest friendships began with something as ordinary as meeting at the bus stop with our kids.
We’ll admit, sometimes we have walk through the neighborhood, eyeing yards with toys and hoping to see another mom outside.
I didn’t always have the courage to knock on doors, but when I did extend myself even a little, beautiful friendships often bloomed.
The Cry Room Is Not the Penalty Box
If you’re a Catholic mom, you’ve probably spent some time in the cry room. And maybe you’ve felt like it was the “penalty box,” the place where you’re exiled because your child is noisy.
I want to tell you: it is not the penalty box.
Mama Vicki will never forget a woman who placed her hand on her shoulder when she was sitting there with her five restless children.
She pointed to a pew filled with her grown kids and whispered, “Those are my babies. You’re going to get through this.” That encouragement carried Mama Vicki to this day. (Usually when she tells this story, her voice cracks and her eyes shine with tears.)
This was a moment of support.
Now, whenever I see a mom nursing in public or struggling in the cry room, I make a point to encourage her: “Well done, Mama. You’re doing a great job.” Sometimes, that tiny word of recognition is the only support she’ll get that day.
My Dream for the Church
In my heart, I dream of parishes celebrating newly baptized babies with the same excitement we give to weddings.
What if we gathered around those families, supported those moms, and made breastfeeding a visible, celebrated part of parish life?
Scripture tells us in Titus 2:4 that older women are to teach the younger women.
Sadly, we’ve lost much of that generational mentorship.
But we can reclaim it—one conversation, one invitation, one act of encouragement at a time.
In my own parish, our homeschool group hosted “Mothers and Me” gatherings. Moms of all ages came together, prayed the rosary with their children, and spent time building friendships. Younger moms could see what was ahead. Older moms could reach back and encourage. It was simple, but powerful.
Community as Hammock Ropes
A dear friend once told me that life is like a hammock.
Every relationship, every support system is a rope.
Your hammock will always have holes, but as long as the ropes are strong enough, they hold you up.
When one of those ropes begins to fray, you need others to step in and help reinforce it.
That’s what community does for breastfeeding moms.
It catches us when we feel like we’re falling.
It strengthens us when we’re weak.
And it teaches us that motherhood was never meant to be a solo act.
Closing Thoughts: The Gift of Presence
Sometimes we overcomplicate support.
We think we need to offer solutions, resources, or detailed plans.
But often, the greatest gift we can give another mom is simply our presence.
Mama Vicki had friends invite her over for pancakes when her baby was colicky.
I’ve had women practice with me how to nurse discreetly at Mass until I felt confident.
And we've both had strangers at church whisper encouragement that carried us for years.
These small acts may seem ordinary, but they weave the fabric of community. They remind us that we are not alone, that our struggles are seen, and that God’s design for motherhood is both intimate and communal.
Final Encouragement
To every mama reading this:
You are doing holy work.
Whether you feel confident or completely overwhelmed, know this—you were not meant to walk this path alone.
Look for your community.
Reach out when you feel isolated.
And if you see another mom in the trenches, be that hand on her shoulder, that smile in the cry room, that voice whispering: “You’re doing a great job.”
We are the Body of Christ, and together, we can make sure no mother ever feels like she has to figure this out alone.
Comment below: What kind of support would help you in your breastfeeding journey?