“I Felt Like My Body Failed Me - Until this”: How Donating Breast Milk Helped Meaghan Heal

Julia Smith

Julia Smith

Julia is a Sydney born-and-raised mum of three girls. With over twenty years in the media industry, including four years with parenting publishers, she’s passionate about creating entertaining content that connects with parents. When she’s not working or parenting, you’ll find her binge watching TV and revenge-procrastinating about bedtime… or nerding out at gigs...
Updated on Aug 05, 2025 · 11 mins read
“I Felt Like My Body Failed Me - Until this”: How Donating Breast Milk Helped Meaghan Heal

Before you have kids, you often picture that your journey to becoming a parent will be perfect.


We expect that pregnancy will just happen when we’re ready, and that the birth and everything that comes after will all go according to plan. But the reality for a lot of new parents is quite different, with one in three Australian couples experiencing fertility challenges.  

And one of the most unexpectedly difficult parts of motherhood? How challenging breastfeeding can be. 

According to the Australian Breastfeeding association, 96% of Australian Mothers initiate breastfeeding, but the rate of exclusive breastfeeding drops sharply in the first few months, often due to challenges with latch, supply, and other environmental or lifestyle factors. Establishing feeding (and milk supply) is particularly challenging for mothers of premature babies, or those who’ve experienced traumatic births or other health complications. 

But did you know that the Australian Red Cross runs an incredible breast milk donation service through Lifeblood? It’s there to support families who have had a rough start to their journey – ensuring vulnerable babies still receive the nourishment they need.

This World Breastfeeding week, we have had the honour of speaking with Adelaide mum Meaghan, whose path to parenthood included infertility, IVF and a dramatic early birth at 31 weeks. Meaghan knows firsthand the emotional rollercoaster of the NICU. But unlike many mums in her position, she was lucky enough to have an abundant supply of milk, and has been using it to help others, donating over 124 litres of her own precious milk through Lifeblood.

Trying, waiting, and the long road to motherhood


Q: Can you take us back to the beginning — what was your journey to motherhood like?

It was a very long journey… not one that we expected, for sure. Up until we had Wyatt, it was about three and a half, nearly four years. We had multiple miscarriages, started seeing a specialist, had lots of tests done. Everything came back fine. We were, you know, fabulous. There was nothing wrong… We should have had no problems having a baby. But yeah, we ended up with unexplained infertility.

So we went through a fertility clinic in SA and did a round of IVF. Luckily, we only needed to do one egg retrieval and ended up with seven embryos. The first embryo transfer, unfortunately, didn’t stick, and then the second one did… which was our lovely little Wyatt. But yeah, he decided to come very early.


High-risk pregnancy, hospital scans, and an early arrival


Q: What happened during Wyatt’s birth?
Because I was considered a high-risk pregnancy – IVF, recurrent losses, early first-trimester bleeding – I was being closely watched. Around 27 or 28 weeks, they were concerned with the size of my belly. My fundal height wasn’t enough, and honestly, I could have told you that! I didn’t look pregnant at all. I hid it from work until 20 weeks because they couldn’t tell.

They referred me for a scan, and at the growth scan, things moved really quickly. There was a lot of flurrying, running around… I was immediately referred to the Women’s and Children’s Hospital and their maternal fetal medicine unit.

They found that Wyatt had marginal cord insertion which means his cord was inserted at the side of the placenta instead of the centre, which was already causing growth restriction. But then the blood flow through his cord was starting to become absent and even a little reversed. They were concerned we might need an emergency cesarean then and there.

I was admitted pretty quickly and stayed there until his birth. I ended up with preeclampsia as well. His growth was well under the first percentile… severely growth restricted. Then we had a bit of a rollercoaster with CTG monitoring, and they said, “No, that’s it, he’s being evicted.” They decided he’d do better out than in.

So I had steroid injections a day or two earlier to help with his lung development. At 31 weeks and 3 days, he was born. He was whisked off to NICU. That was another thing I could tick off my bingo board of all the things we’d faced on the road to parenthood – NICU was the next one.


When the fear doesn’t stop after birth


Q: How were you feeling when you were in hospital and all of this was happening?
It was just crazy. I used to joke (kind of darkly),  that I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. We’d had miscarriages, a failed embryo transfer… and even though we only had one failed transfer, it still felt like another loss. Like, we were ready for a family four years earlier, and it hadn’t happened.

By the time I was pregnant with Wyatt, I didn’t even want anyone to know. I didn’t use language like “when the baby comes” – it was always “if.” I’d lost all hope of it ending in a positive outcome. My perception of pregnancy was fear. Anxiety. It was everything that goes against what you see in the media or with friends who have easy pregnancies.

So then, even though we finally got our live birth, I held him for maybe 15 seconds before he was taken away with Luke. I was left on the operating table – no baby, no husband. And I couldn’t see Wyatt until 2am the next morning, because I wasn’t allowed in NICU until I could physically get into a wheelchair (because of the spinal block).

I don’t even remember seeing him for the first time. I’ve got photos of me putting my hand in the isolette – but I’ve got no memory of it. That’s awful! That’s the first time I met my son, and it’s just a big black spot.

NICU life: survival mode, support, and sitting by the cot


Q: What helped you get through the 50 days he was in NICU and special care?
Honestly… I don’t really know. You just go into survival mode. You want support, but at the same time, you don’t want anyone around. No one gets it unless they’ve lived it. Our external support network was amazing! My parents, Luke’s mum – but even they were scared. It was their grandson in there.

People don’t know what to say. They don’t want to say the wrong thing. The emotional burden really ends up on you and your partner, if you have one.

Later on, I connected with a couple of other NICU mums, and I still see one of them weekly. That was really valuable, just having someone who just gets it. They understand corrected age, hospital visits, anxiety around milestones, and the triggers.

Wyatt still goes back to hospital for appointments and surgery later this year. That environment will always retrigger the trauma.

The hospital was great too – I picked up early signs of postnatal depression, and they connected me with a psychologist. They have so many supports… lactation consultants, counsellors – you just have to ask.

Q: Is it hour-by-hour in those early NICU days?
Yeah. I always say time works differently in NICU. In two minutes, everything can change. One minute your baby’s sleeping, the next they might need resuscitation. It happens fast, and the NICU team are a well-oiled machine.

Early days, it’s literally minute by minute. As they get bigger and healthier, you can breathe a bit more, but it really is day by day.

Looking back, 50 days doesn’t feel long. But when you’re in it, every hour drags. You’re sitting cot side, watching them sleep. You do “cares” every few hours – nappies, wipe-downs, swapping cords. You might get a cuddle. But otherwise, you’re just waiting. That’s when it gets lonely and your thoughts spiral.

Q: Was Luke there with you most of the time?
Yeah, I was really lucky. Luke works for the government and got premature birth leave, so he was with me the whole time. But I saw a lot of mums in NICU who were there alone, and it’s often the mum because she’s the one providing milk and doing skin-to-skin. My heart goes out to those mums and dads doing it solo.

A milk supply in overdrive, and nowhere to store it


Q: Let’s talk about milk. Did Wyatt need donor milk?
He didn’t. But I signed the consent form just in case. My supply came in really fast. They hand-expressed 8mls of colostrum hours after he was born. They only needed 0.5mls, so they were ecstatic. And from there, it just kept going.

Q: What did you do with all the extra milk?
I was pumping constantly! At home, in NICU, even in the car. The NICU eventually told me to stop bringing it in because I’d filled their freezer. We filled ours, then started taking milk to my mother-in-law’s. Then we took her chest freezer and brought it to our house!

I was talking to a lactation consultant about how to store milk, because I missed all the prenatal classes. She said, “I can refer you to Lifeblood – you can donate it.” I hadn’t even thought of that. I called them from cot side, did the intake interview over the phone, and that was that.

Becoming a Lifeblood milk donor (from the NICU, no less)


Q: How much have you donated now?
Officially 124 litres. But I had a pickup yesterday… so I reckon I’m close to 150 litres.

Q: That’s amazing. How does that make you feel?
It’s wild to think about. When babies are born, they only need 0.5mls. And I’ve donated 150 litres. It’s so cathartic. I always say, after everything, I felt like my body had failed me. I couldn’t conceive naturally. I lost babies. Wyatt came early. We couldn’t breastfeed. It felt like one failure after another.

But donating milk – that was something my body could do. It helped me heal. And not just for Wyatt… it’s helping other babies. If it gives another mum peace of mind while she waits for her supply to come in, that’s huge. That’s purpose. That’s healing.

Q: How did it feel handing over that first box of milk?
The first one was picked up in NICU, which was perfect. They told me I’d filled the whole freezer and said, “We have enough milk for Wyatt to feed the whole NICU.” So we donated the rest.

Now, pickups are from home, and it’s been the same lady, Jenny,  all year. She’s seen Wyatt grow up. At her first pickup, he still had a feeding tube. Now he’s eight and a half kilos. I told her I might only have one more pickup left, and we both got teary. It’s become part of our lives.

Q: When will you stop donating?
You can only donate until your baby turns one, so I’ve got about a month left. I’m sad because it’s part of my routine. But I’m proud. Pumping is hard. It’s time-consuming. And I’m still exclusively pumping now because Wyatt never established breastfeeding. But I’ll keep going until he doesn’t need me anymore.

Wyatt today: solids, surgery, and first birthday celebrations


Q: How’s Wyatt doing now?
He’s great. So chilled. Still loves milk… and not too fussed about solids yet. He’s got a small surgery later in the year but otherwise he’s doing really well. NICU babies are amazing! So strong and resilient.

Q: How are you celebrating his first birthday?
He technically gets two…  his birth date and his corrected age. But we’re having a party with our loved ones. Dinosaur-themed, because I love dinosaurs! We’re celebrating him, and also our first year as parents. The whole journey.

Telling Wyatt’s story - in words and pictures


Q: You mentioned you’re working on a book?
Yes! While we were in NICU, I started writing and illustrating a picture book for Wyatt  to help explain his story when he’s older. It’s not my full journal, it’s something age-appropriate for him. I’m hoping to self-publish it by the end of the year. It’s been really healing.

How it changed her, and what she wants other parents to know


Q: How has this experience changed you?
Completely. I’ve been rewired. I’ve gained so much perspective and empathy. I wouldn’t wish our journey on anyone, but I’ve learned a lot from it.

Q: Any advice for other mums? Especially those going through NICU or breastfeeding struggles?
Do what works for you. Whether it’s connecting with others or shutting out the world,  just do what protects your energy.

And with breastfeeding… be kind to yourself. I had a huge supply, but Wyatt and I couldn’t make it work. It was stressful for both of us. We switched to bottles, and it was so much better. Feeding shouldn’t be a battle. You’re doing your best – and that’s enough.

How you can donate or find out more about Lifeblood’s Milk Donation


If you would like to find out more about the incredible work of the Lifeblood Milk Donation Service, check out their website here. 

And thank you so much Meaghan for sharing such a deeply personal story with us all this World Breastfeeding Week!

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