Breastfeeding Isn’t Just Personal: My Story, Donor Milk, and Why We Need Systemic Change

From my journey as a mother of four to the hidden barriers behind lactation equity, donor milk access, and paid family leave—here’s what we need to fix now. There’s a glaring public health gap that no one seems to talk about—and I cannot stay quiet about it anymore. As a breastfeeding mother, student activist, and…

From my journey as a mother of four to the hidden barriers behind lactation equity, donor milk access, and paid family leave—here’s what we need to fix now.

There’s a glaring public health gap that no one seems to talk about—and I cannot stay quiet about it anymore. As a breastfeeding mother, student activist, and health equity advocate, I’ve experienced this injustice firsthand. We live in a country that promotes slogans like “breast is best” and tells parents they should breastfeed for six months or longer, yet we set them up to fail at almost every turn. We hand out advice but offer no structural support. We place the burden on individual parents while refusing to fix the systemic barriers that block them from succeeding.

It’s easy to post awareness campaigns or pass out a pamphlet. It’s harder to address the policies, workplace practices, healthcare inequities, and cultural stigmas that prevent people from reaching their breastfeeding goals. But that’s exactly where real change has to happen.

I believe that safe human milk access should be viewed as a fundamental health right, not a luxury item reserved for the privileged few. I believe that reproductive justice includes the right to nourish your child with dignity and without shame, stress, or financial hardship. And I believe that we have an obligation—as a society—to move beyond awareness and into action.

This issue matters to me on every level: as a parent who has struggled, as a healthcare advocate who has seen the data, and as a woman who understands what it feels like to navigate a broken system while trying to do the best for your baby. That’s why I created the Life Milk project—to start a conversation, offer solutions, and push for a better standard of care for all parents, not just the lucky few.

The Hidden Barrier No One Warns You About

In the U.S., milk banks exist, but they largely operate within hospital networks and NICUs to serve medically fragile infants. Once a family leaves the hospital? They are on their own. The only widely accessible infant feeding product is formula—even though human breast milk offers unmatched health benefits: reduced risks of breast and ovarian cancer for mothers, fewer gastrointestinal illnesses and infections for infants, and improved long-term health outcomes.

For families without access to a hospital-affiliated milk bank, safe donor human milk is almost impossible to find. This is an unacceptable equity failure. Milk banks charge up to $16 per ounce while donor parents often receive barely $1 or $2 per ounce, if anything. I fully respect the strict safety and quality standards that milk banks must meet. But the current structure is broken. I believe we can build community-based milk banks that compensate lactating parents fairly, create options for parents to stay home longer with their children, and make donor milk a safe, affordable choice for every family—not just a privilege for a select few.

Breastfeeding as Reproductive Justice

Breastfeeding isn’t just a personal choice—it’s a reproductive justice issue. Black infants in the U.S. are far less likely to be breastfed than white infants, largely because of structural barriers like the lack of paid leave, inadequate workplace protections, and systemic racism in healthcare. Families in under-resourced communities face the greatest obstacles, yet they are the ones who stand to benefit the most from safe access to human milk.

We see these inequities very clearly here in Rhode Island. According to the 2022 CDC Breastfeeding Report Card, Rhode Island has the highest percentage of births at Baby-Friendly hospitals in the country, which promote breastfeeding and maternal-infant bonding through initiatives like kangaroo care. Yet despite this, Rhode Island ranks among the lowest states for actual breastfeeding rates at 3 and 6 months postpartum. Only 42.3% of babies are exclusively breastfed at 3 months, and that number drops to just 22.9% at 6 months. It is a perfect example of how hospital initiatives are not enough on their own if structural barriers like lack of leave, lack of workplace support, and cultural stigmas are still in place.

I’ve also personally experienced another barrier that is rarely discussed: the hospital formula samples. With every one of my children, I made it very clear to the hospital staff that I intended to breastfeed. Yet each time, I was sent home with samples of infant formula—despite expressing repeatedly that I did not want them. I was even made to feel bad for declining, as if I was wasting the product or taking something away from another parent who might need it. Hospitals should never pressure or deter parents from their breastfeeding goals by handing out formula samples without consent.

The reality is that breastfeeding is hard. It requires both education and support. It feels deeply counter intuitive that hospitals send you home with formula samples while also handing you a lactation support pamphlet. Many parents don’t know what to ask for or who to call for help, especially if they are overwhelmed or unsure how to advocate for themselves. Barriers like lack of a phone plan, limited minutes, transportation issues, or simple exhaustion can prevent people from reaching out. The system should be designed to remove obstacles—not create them.

We are told “breast is best”—but we are not taught why. Breastfeeding reduces breast and ovarian cancer risk for mothers and offers powerful immunity-boosting benefits for babies. Breast milk protects against gastrointestinal and respiratory illnesses, reduces obesity and diabetes risk, and supports a child’s healthy development. It’s not just food—it’s medicine.

The U.S. Is Failing Parents: Paid Leave & Workplace Protections

The United States is the only country in the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) that does not guarantee paid parental leave. Germany offers parents up to 12 months of paid leave at 67% of income under their Elterngeld program. Paid leave improves breastfeeding rates, maternal health, and financial stability.

I know because I’ve lived it. My first three children were born under very different circumstances than my fourth. As a teen mom and later as a young working mom, I was forced back to work as early as four weeks postpartum after a C-section because I couldn’t afford to lose my job. There were no clean pumping spaces. I dried up far earlier than I wanted, not by choice but because my workplace made it impossible.

With my fourth child in 2024, I finally had five months of leave—but was blindsided to learn the last three weeks were unpaid. I only realized when my paycheck never arrived. I had already spent money Christmas shopping, fully expecting my normal pay. That financial shock meant I had to return to work early, on Christmas Eve, which was heartbreaking. That stress never should have happened.

The difference between my first three children and my fourth is night and day. My youngest has never been in daycare, and I’ve been able to breastfeed and bond the way I always wanted to. No parent should have to rely on privilege or luck to get what should be standard: time, space, and support.

A Model for Systemic Change: What Human Milk Banks Can—and Should—Be

As an advocate, I’m not proposing that I alone build a milk bank empire. I’m calling for healthcare systems, policymakers, and milk banks everywhere to rethink what’s possible. Milk banks should not just serve hospitals. They must expand to serve community families facing supply issues, adoption, surrogacy, early return to work, or medical complications.

We must also compensate milk donors fairly. Donors often get pennies per ounce while banks charge up to $16 per ounce. Community milk banks should pay and support donor parents, offer milestone incentives, and allow postpartum parents to supplement their income and extend time at home with their babies.

Imagine:

  • Sliding-scale pricing for low-income families
  • Corporate partnerships and nonprofit aid
  • Donor recognition and retention programs
  • Registry and gift program integration
  • Expansion into humanitarian and disaster relief aid

I also envision a world where manufactured formulas—modified cow’s milk, goat’s milk, plant-based, or synthetic—are not automatically the first recommendation. Breastfeeding should be prioritized, and safe donor milk should be available as the second-best option for parents who cannot nurse. Human milk should be universally accessible—not marketed as a premium product only a few can afford.

This vision isn’t exclusive to me or any one organization. It’s a blueprint I hope many milk banks and healthcare systems will adopt.

What I’ve Learned Through This Work

This project started as part of my Gender Women’s Studies coursework. What began as an academic assignment quickly became something much deeper—a true passion and personal mission to incorporate action into my advocacy. It opened my eyes to how interconnected everything I care about is: maternal health, child health, health equity, policy reform, education access, science communication, and breaking down barriers for underrepresented voices in every space I’m part of.

Throughout this journey, I’ve often thought of my patron saint, Saint Monica. She exemplifies so many of the qualities I strive to embody: persistence without aggression, strength with humility, and a patient but unrelenting belief in the possibility of change. Saint Monica showed what it means to disarm opposition not by overpowering, but by standing firm with grace and calm wisdom. Her legacy inspires me to be that steady voice of reason that refuses to give up.

I’ve learned to embrace the value of persistence over perfection. Activism and advocacy are not tidy or linear. They are hard and often exhausting. I balance family, school, work, creative passions, and this growing movement I’m building. There is no perfect time to act. So I’ve stopped waiting for perfection and instead committed to keep pushing forward.

I will keep pushing for policy change. I will keep showing up. I will keep having conversations. I will keep working toward a future where equity is no longer an afterthought—whether that’s lactation equity, paid family leave, science understanding, education access, reproductive justice, environmental justice, or any of the other causes I’m passionate about. I know I won’t solve everything at once, but I also know I’m building something bigger than myself. That’s the legacy I want to live into.

What You Can Do Right Now

  • Talk about breastfeeding equity
  • Advocate for paid parental leave
  • Share facts about human milk and milk banking
  • Support breastfeeding and pumping parents around you
  • Follow @ScienceWithSabrina and join the conversation

We can—and must—build a future where a parent’s ability to nourish their child isn’t determined by race, zip code, or income. We can do better. Together, we will.