Breastfeeding, Pumping, NICU Milk Deliveries, and the Baby Brezza
Feeding twins is one of those things you think you understand…until you’re actually doing it. I knew it would be a lot of work, but I didn’t realize it would become the task I spent the most time doing, every day, for months. And I definitely didn’t expect the twists and turns that came with feeding two preemies who couldn’t latch, needed high‑calorie formula, and spent their first weeks in the NICU.
This is what feeding looked like for us. The real version, not the idealized one.
When Breastfeeding Doesn’t Go the Way You Expect
From the beginning, something felt off. Oak and Ash tried to latch in the hospital and could manage a few minutes here and there, which made everyone think things were fine. But once we got home, it was clear they couldn’t stay latched. My dear friend came to stay with me for 2 weeks after the boys came home to help get all of us settled. She breastfed her child for 2 years. She could help me position the boys and get them to latch but they couldn’t stay on.
What I didn’t know, and what nobody had yet caught, was that both boys had tongue ties.
Not the nurses.
Not the pediatrician.
Not even the lactation consultant.
Either nobody checked or because they were preemies with tiny mouths and perfect hospital conditions, they fooled everyone for those first few days.
It wasn’t until over a year later, at their first dentist appointment, that the issue was identified. Suddenly everything made sense.
Pumping Became My Entire NICU Experience
Since they couldn’t latch, I pumped. And actually, the NICU made that part easier. They had hospital‑grade pumps, and I could pump while holding one baby skin‑to‑skin. I’d label the bottles, hand them to the nurse, and feel like I was contributing to their care in a place where so much was out of my control.
And I tried everything to increase my supply. I met every couple of days with the lactation consultant for check ins. I got perfectly fitted nipple flanges at her recommendation. I stopped taking the antihistamine I was on because I read it could affect milk production. I researched every tip, every trick, every “must‑try” method for boosting supply. I followed all the advice: pumping frequently (including throughout the night), staying hydrated, eating enough, doing skin‑to‑skin, power pumping, all of it. I did everything “right,” and I still wasn’t making enough milk for one baby.
Then I got sick with a cold.
I couldn’t be in the NICU physically, but I still pumped every 2–3 hours around the clock. I made the daily drive downtown just to drop off milk, even if I couldn’t visit them. I’d hand over the contents of the cooler bag and drive home again, exhausted and emotional, but determined to keep showing up.
People imagine NICU parents resting at home between visits. I didn’t rest.
I spent their entire NICU stay pumping every 2–3 hours, trying to increase my supply for two babies who needed more than my body could make while caring for a toddler at the same time. It was constant. It was draining. And it was the only way I knew to stay connected to them when I couldn’t always be there physically.
When Pumping Became Unsustainable
Once the boys came home, the reality of feeding twins hit hard. I was pumping, feeding, burping, changing, and trying to keep two preemies and a toddler alive on my own while healing from birth and barely sleeping.
I never made enough milk for both boys. What I did make had to be supplemented with high‑calorie formula (doctor’s orders.)
After a few months, I hit a wall. I was exhausted in a way that didn’t feel sustainable. So I stopped pumping. Not because I didn’t care, but because I needed to choose rest over burnout.
It was the right call.
Transitioning to Formula
When you’re feeding two babies around the clock, anything that saves time becomes essential. For me, that was the Baby Brezza.
It made bottles instantly and and warmed them precisely. No scoops, no measuring, no second‑guessing at 2 a.m. When you’re feeding 18 bottles a day, that kind of convenience matters more than any ideal you had about how feeding should look.
The Baby Brezza gave me back minutes, and when you’re living in 2 hour increments, minutes matter.
The 9‑Hour Feeding Reality
During maternity leave, I timed it. I spent 9 hours a day feeding babies. Simply feeding. That does not include prepping bottles, feeding, burping, diaper changes, and resetting for the next feed.
Nine hours.
Every single day.
And because the boys were preemies, their feedings were sloppier (hello, tongue ties!) and longer than for a full-term baby:
Oak took about 40 minutes per bottle. Slow and mostly steady.
Ash finished in 20 minutes. Faster and more focused.
Multiply that by 9 feeds a day, and you can imagine how much of my life was spent in the glider, holding bottles, watching the clock, and trying to keep track of who ate last.
Until they were sleeping through the night, if one baby woke to eat (typically Ash), I would wake the other right after and feed him too so I could have slightly less fragmented sleep. Trust me, this is essential.
Building a Feeding Command Center
If you’re feeding twins, especially in the early months, prepare for a lot of sitting. A lot.
I set myself up like I was settling in for a long‑haul flight:
Snacks (for me!)
A giant water bottle
Blankets
2 burp cloths
A boppy pillow
A clipboard with paper and pen
A phone charger
A show queued up
A nightstand pulled right next to my glider
I watched entire seasons during feeding hours. It wasn’t glamorous, but it kept me sane.
Tracking Feeds When Your Brain Is Mush
With two babies eating at different speeds and different amounts, tracking becomes essential because your brain is exhausted and math becomes impossible.
Use whatever works for you. With Lily, I used an app. With one baby it was easy and convenient to track her metrics. But with the boys, all I could manage was a blank piece of paper that I made into a chart and updated manually with a pen.
In the link below, I’ve created the tracker I wish I had had for you.
Dropping Night Feeds and Finally Getting Some Sleep
Right before the boys turned 6 months old, I had a feeling they didn’t really need to be eating overnight anymore. We were still doing a couple of night feeds, and everyone was exhausted. At their check‑up, the pediatrician agreed it was time to start cutting back.
Her instructions were to reduce the amount in their bottles a little at a time until they self-weaned. This seemed to simple to be true.
With the Baby Brezza, I was able to make 1 ounce less each night. Over the course of a week, we went from full bottles to only getting about 2 ounces during those middle‑of‑the‑night wake ups.
Once we got down to that tiny amount, they stopped waking up for it. Their bodies adjusted and suddenly they were sleeping through the night.
That first full night of sleep felt like a reset button. Almost magical.
What I Wish Someone Had Told Me
If you’re in the thick of feeding twins or preparing for it the near future, here’s something I wish I had heard early on: none of this is a measure of your worth. How much milk you make, how long you pump, whether they latch or don’t. None of it says anything about how much you love your babies.
Whether you breastfeed, pump, formula‑feed, or end up doing a mix of everything, you’re still showing up for your babies in every way that matters. You’re feeding them, comforting them, and giving them what they need to grow.
Fed is best.
And you are doing a great job, Mama.