Encouraging breastfeeding is one of the Scottish Government’s ongoing public health goals, promoted in part through a cheesily titled advertising campaign: “the Feedgood Factor”.

You might have seen the posters on stations and buses. They feature a series of smiling, serene young women cuddling bright-eyed babies, with slogans positively comparing the decision to breastfeed with an everyday triviality, like “laughing when my mate’s highlights turned green”.

A month into my own breastfeeding experience, I’d quite like to take a marker pen to those posters and make them a bit more realistic. I’d draw bags under the girls’ eyes, scribbles for hair that hasn’t been brushed in days, and add a few zig-zag frown lines.

My wishful graffiti doesn’t represent an objection to the campaign’s goal: “to communicate that breastfeeding is achievable and increase the target audience’s confidence in their ability...”  

Of course women should be encouraged to see breastfeeding as a viable option, and of course they should be informed about the health benefits for them and their children.

It’s just that it’s not always that easy.

Before our daughter was born, the decision to breastfeed seemed obvious to me. I knew that I was cheaper, more portable and easier to sterilise than a bottle, and I knew that breast milk would provide her with tailor-made nutrition and protection from illnesses, from eczema to diabetes and tummy bugs. So why would we do anything else?

A month on, we are still breastfeeding, but only just. It has been a struggle, and, like so many aspects of early motherhood, one for which I was blissfully ill-prepared.

We struggled to get started, we struggled to get the position right, I struggled with the relentless 24-7 demand (how could I not have realised that ‘night feeding’ meant ‘all night feeding’) and she struggled with my failure to differentiate ‘feed me’ crying from all other kinds.

I can’t tell you how many times in the last few weeks I have thought, and said: “Enough!”

The fact we are continuing owes far more to support, encouragement and, frankly, a bit of bullying from family, friends, and healthcare professionals, than it does to any resolution on my part.

And we are by no means alone in finding that breastfeeding doesn’t come quite as naturally, or as easily, as the global marketing might imply.

While around three quarters of Scottish mothers start, only just over a quarter are still exclusively feeding their children this way by the time of their six week medical check-up – although the recommendation is to continue for about six months.

The reasons for stopping, and not starting, breastfeeding are complex, with practical, medical and cultural factors all playing a part (this recent HeraldScotland news story explains some of them http://www.heraldscotland.com/mobile/news/health/lack-of-support-blamed-for-breastfeeding-failure.15581891 ).  

I recognise that effective marketing needs a strong, simple message, but to me, the Feedgood campaign still misses the mark. Its suggestion that breastfeeding is a ‘better decision’ than “buying bargain shoes that didn’t fit” trivialises a course of action that may turn out to be immensely demanding – and while that approach might help encourage new mums to start, it isn’t going to motivate them to continue.

The experts, and there are many qualified sources of help available in Scotland, say that the feeding and the night shifts start to become more manageable after the first few weeks. I can see that corner approaching, even if we haven’t quite turned it yet.

Despite the challenges, when my tiny daughter opens her almond-shaped eyes in the middle of a feed, and looks directly at me, I know that we’re embarking on something that is going to be worth the effort, and it’s the little moments like that that will keep us going - no campaigning required.