Day three in the hospital I was almost about to give up the whole breastfeeding thing. I was sore from pushing my baby out, my milk hadn't come in, Pip didn't want to latch on, my legend of a husband had to help me hand express colostrum (I did one boob and he did the other), I hadn't slept a wink since she arrived and I was pumping all day and night after every feed to give her as many syringes of milk that I could. I remember having a cry because I thought that I wouldn't be able to do one of the things I had so been looking forward to with having a baby; the breastfeeding. That I would miss out on the closeness and the bonding it would bring. But after finishing my little sob I also realised the I really didn't care about what I thought was important as long as she would get fed and be happy. That giving formula wouldn't take away anything from our mother and baby bonding. I think that when I let the stress about it go (and when my milk came in and my brilliant obstetrician told me he was bottle fed and turned out "fairly normal" haha) it all went so much more smoothly. I still find it a bit tricky at times with a sleepy baby that sometimes (read a lot of times) falls asleep and needs tickling of her feet to keep eating and who gains weight very slowly. But I'm so glad that I can feed her for now, and that she's such a happy and content little baby who loves her awake time and is growing in length. But also that if it doesn't work out one day the bottle will be just fine as well. There really is no right or wrong, and raising a little one clearly doesn't follow the guide books, as much as that would be great sometimes..