Walk into any corner of our country; urban or rural, north or south and you’re likely to find a familiar sight in a hospital’s outpatient department; a new mother, cradling her baby, uncertain and anxious about how to breastfeed. As a second-year resident in Community Medicine, I have encountered this scene far too often. Yet, one particular experience during my thesis data collection transformed how I viewed this issue, not as a routine medical task, but as a human story of support, or the lack of it.
My research focused on postnatal care (PNC) mothers. On the first day, I began interviews with a standard set of questions around breastfeeding practices. I intended to be an objective observer. However, that quickly changed. With every interaction, I found myself not just gathering data but counselling each mother. Most of them were not practicing breastfeeding correctly. The surprise wasn’t just in their actions, but in their reactions. When I corrected them, they listened closely, asked thoughtful questions, and expressed genuine interest in learning. Their warmth and openness made it clear: this wasn’t about ignorance. It was about a lack of guidance.
A recurring pattern stood out: early introduction of formula feeds before six months. When asked why, mothers gave familiar answers: “I don’t have enough milk,” or “The baby seems hungry even after breastfeeding.” Some contradicted themselves, saying they exclusively breastfed, “except occasionally when going out.” Others admitted they were unsure of the right thing to do. I recall a few mothers mentioning, “The doctor gave me this powder for my baby when I said I wasn’t producing enough milk”. One mother even told me that the hospital had given her this powder since the baby’s birth and instructed her to continue using it.
Curious and concerned, I spoke to our Urban Health Training Centre’s in-charge and also to the Community development officer (CDO). To my surprise, the Community Development Officer wasn’t surprised at all, through their experience they were already aware that such practices were common, often carried out by unqualified practitioners and even some overburdened private doctors. At the same time, the CDO pointed out that some hospitals were indeed doing a commendable job, offering proper guidance and support. I had noticed this too, mothers who had availed services from those centres showed better awareness and healthier practices. Around that time, I came across this year’s theme for world breastfeeding week “Prioritise Breastfeeding: Create a Sustainable Support System.” It couldn’t have been more timely. It was then that I took a step back and reflected more deeply on the mothers’ responses.
Whenever the topic of breastfeeding gaps comes up, we often refer to a set of commonly cited reasons or explanations. The blame is often placed on traditions, relatives, or uninformed yet caring neighbours. While those influences do exist, my findings pointed to a more serious issue, a failure of the healthcare system itself. In many cases, mothers had actually reached out to doctors with concerns about insufficient breast milk or being away for brief periods from the infant for work or some other reason. Rather than being supported, they were often handed a quick fix: a prescription for formula milk, especially in private practices. These women were never told about expressing breast milk or taught about breastfeeding positions, role of maternal nutrition in producing breastmilk, or techniques to improve milk supply. Some weren’t even informed about when to start or stop breastfeeding.
But the solution, fortunately, is within reach.
To truly prioritise breastfeeding, we must build a sustainable, multi-layered support system. This begins with healthcare professionals: hospitals, gynaecologists, paediatricians, medical officers, private medical practitioners, nurses, frontline workers; taking the time to educate mothers right from the antenatal period. Every mother should receive counselling on the importance of breastfeeding, the benefits of skin-to-skin contact, the role of proper nutrition, and practical techniques like correct latching and positioning. After childbirth, early initiation of breastfeeding and rooming-in should be standard practice. Medical staff must ensure the mother is practicing breastfeeding correctly before discharge. Training nursing staff to offer bedside support is vital. Beyond hospital walls, frontline workers like ASHA and CHVs must follow up at home, helping mothers navigate challenges and reinforcing good practices. Most importantly, families must be brought into this conversation. Husbands and elders must be educated on their role in supporting the mother, sharing responsibilities, and creating an environment of encouragement rather than criticism.
Support must go beyond hospitals and homes. It needs to come from our policies too. Providing sufficient maternity leave across all sectors, setting up breastfeeding rooms like Hirakani Kaksh in public places, and weaving stronger breastfeeding components into RCH programmes are all steps that reflect a society that genuinely values its mothers and children.
Breastfeeding is not just a personal act; it’s a shared responsibility. And supporting it sustainably requires coordination between health professionals, families, and the community at large.
This journey has taught me that change doesn’t come from instructions alone, it comes from listening with empathy and acting with conviction. Supporting breastfeeding isn’t a one-time intervention. It’s a continuous, compassionate process. If we want healthier children, empowered mothers, and stronger communities, we must start by ensuring that no woman ever feels alone or unsure as she begins her journey of motherhood.
As a young doctor, I dream of a healthcare system that doesn’t just treat, but truly supports. A system where breastfeeding isn’t just advised but enabled through trust, time, and teamwork.
