I’m just about to submit my thesis.
Some of you may know that I began my second degree in Special Needs Education a couple of years ago—and this moment feels both surreal and deeply meaningful.
My thesis explores a topic that feels close to my heart: the maternal challenges of breastfeeding infants with special or complex medical needs.
Was this an “academically wise” choice? Probably not.
The topic is so under-researched that I found only a handful of studies—not necessarily focused on it, but at least acknowledging it. And maternal experience? Even less.
So why did I choose it?
Because the first time I truly witnessed a mother breastfeeding—my sister, in fact—it moved something deep within me. I was 27, and although I must’ve seen women nursing in public before, it had never caught my attention like that. There was something so intimate, so powerful in that moment.
But it wasn’t just beautiful—it was also clearly difficult.
That experience made me realize just how complex feeding a baby is. It affects nearly every area of life in a young family. And breastfeeding, even when things go well, is no small feat.
Later, when I became a mother myself, I began breastfeeding while still immersed in my studies. I remember one moment clearly: I was sitting there, nursing, when I learned how breastfeeding can positively impact a baby's oral motor development—and even their future speech. I was fascinated. That was when I knew: I wanted to write about breastfeeding.
But the final spark came from scrolling social media. One amazing mother of a student at a special school where I had my internship shared her own breastfeeding journey in a heartfelt blog post. Her daughter has multiple severe impairments—and saying their journey was “challenging” would be a major understatement.
Their story deeply moved me. It felt like a calling.
I knew then that I wanted to learn more about how mothers navigate feeding their babies in the face of medical complexity.
Since I’m not a clinician, it would have been nearly impossible for me to reach out to families currently in that fragile, early postpartum stage—when trauma, surgery, and medical intervention often take center stage.
So I decided to interview five mothers whose babies had received early intervention or urgent medical care in their first months of life—experiences that, while not always extreme, still brought major challenges in breastfeeding.
With the exception of one little baby with a congenital heart condition, the issues were related to things like hypotonia, spastic muscle tone, or asymmetrical body posture—all of which affect the muscles needed for suckling. Thanks to early intervention, many of these difficulties improved. But still—they left their mark.
These families experienced extremely painful feeding sessions. Mental and physical exhaustion. Bleeding wounds. The stress of poor weight gain. Endless appointments, sleepless nights, and a constant fear of doing something “wrong.”
And the most surprising thing?
Nearly all of these mothers blamed themselves—their nipple shape, their body, their abilities—until they finally spoke to a professional. Only then did they realize: the problem wasn’t them. It was something their baby was going through that needed support.
And yet they persevered. They loved. They showed up.
Just like so many of the parents I’ve met in special education settings—quiet heroes, facing enormous challenges with grace, resilience, and radical acceptance. They inspire me every day.
One more thing I want to say:
Not all mothers want to or are able to breastfeed. That is okay. Truly.
What matters most is that the baby is loved, held, and cared for. Supplementing, pumping, formula feeding—these are not lesser choices. They are nurturing choices, made from love.
What Comes Next
Since my research is still under review, I won’t share the detailed results just yet. But I will write a follow-up post later this autumn—likely in November—once everything is finalized and hopefully approved.
I can’t wait to tell you more about what I discovered and what these incredible women taught me about strength, and the fierce love of motherhood.
Thank you to the mothers who trusted me with their stories. You have taught me more than any textbook ever could.
And to anyone walking a hard road in early motherhood—you’re not alone. And you’re doing better than you think.
This sounds like a fascinating (and necessary) research project. I look forward to hearing more about it.