Breastfeeding with Scoliosis and a Spinal Fusion: What I Learned

Note: I started this post two years ago as I was ending my breastfeeding journey in late 2024. This, like many other things one experiences as a first-time parent, took a backseat. But it’s been fun to revisit what I wrote, make updates, and reflect on such a special time in honor of National Breastfeeding Month.

I approach many things in life with this mindset: I’ll do my best and whatever happens, happens.

Living with scoliosis and a fused spine for as long as I have taught me this—and it was also how I embarked on my breastfeeding journey when our daughter was born in late 2023. This is a topic I have yet to talk about publicly as it relates to scoliosis, and since August is National Breastfeeding Month, I’m going to lean into it. But not too much because, well, scoliosis and all.

In terms of scoliosis and spinal fusion, pregnancy was thankfully uneventful for me—I can count the number of times I was truly uncomfortable on one hand. The early postpartum weeks, especially as a first-time mom, were full of awe and joy, and yes, aches and pains too.

Just like with labor and delivery, I went into breastfeeding with an open mind. My hope was that if my body was able to produce enough milk, we’d go as long as we could for the first year. But I also knew deep down that fed was best, so I was mentally prepared to adjust my expectations based on what our little one needed. There were some challenges of course, but overall our experience was quite positive. 

The Biggest Question: My Back

Before I get into what breastfeeding actually looked like for me, it’s probably helpful to briefly explain what my spine looks like in the first place.

Quick back story (pun intended): despite having a spinal fusion to correct a progressive double major curve, I still have moderate scoliosis. My thoracic curve now sits around 26 degrees, down from a high of 52 degrees pre-surgery (for reference, a scoliosis diagnosis happens at 10+ degrees). Rods may have physically straightened my spine, but they’re no match for the muscle memory my body harbors. 

Because of how scoliosis has affected the structure of my body, it is very happy leaning to the left; it happens rather unconsciously. And while I spent years learning how my body moves and compensates because of scoliosis, I hadn’t really thought about how much of this would come into play when I suddenly had a newborn to hold, feed, and care for around the clock.

• Would breastfeeding make my back hurt more?
• Would certain nursing positions be uncomfortable—or impossible?
• Would holding a baby for hours every day aggravate the muscles around my fusion?
• Would my scoliosis or my rods make it harder to maintain a comfortable pumping posture?

Honestly, I didn’t know.

What I did know was that I would figure it out as I went and listen to my body, which as a marathoner with scoliosis and a spinal fusion, I’m very adept at doing.  

Finding a Position That Worked for Me

The biggest thing I noticed was how strongly my body wanted to fall back into its existing muscular patterns, aka the dreaded left lean. I found the most comfortable position to both nurse and bottle feed our daughter was to cradle her in my left arm, using my right hand to help position her or hold the bottle.

It made sense—my body likes to lean left and despite being predominantly right-handed, my left side felt stronger to hold her weight versus my right. 

At the same time, holding her that way caused my body to revert to old patterns and really sink into my curve, especially when I was really tired or it was an early morning feeding while the rest of the world slept.

I tried to combat this by sitting on the left side of our couch so I could use the arm for leverage and prevent too much leaning. More often than not, though, I just found myself using multiple pillows in whatever direction felt comfortable. Usually, that meant a pillow on top of my legs and our lil bub on top of that, along with a backrest pillow behind me for additional support. This combination also helped me avoid leaning forward too much and rounding my shoulders.

I did try a Boppy, which we received as a baby shower gift. It just did not work. It felt awkward and uncomfortable (we actually used it more to help our lil bub sit up than for breastfeeding!). Sometimes, it’s best to not overcomplicate things; just keep it simple, like some strategically placed pillows.

One thing I’ve learned from living with scoliosis and spinal fusion is that there isn’t necessarily a single “right” position for my body to do things in. The right position is the one that works best for me. That became especially apparent during breastfeeding.

I tried the football hold. Talk about a fumble—it felt very difficult for me to naturally hold her that way while trying to get her to latch at the same time. I tried side-lying and while the overall position was fine, maneuvering in and out of it was difficult for me without feeling like my rods were clanking around (an exaggeration of course, but the sentiment is true). And unlike what all those internet diagrams depict, propping myself up effortlessly, arm bent, hand on temple style was a no-go as my body just cannot bend that way. 

I mostly stuck with cradle and cross-cradle positions; again, why unnecessarily complicate things? Keep it simple. The real kicker though: my right breast tended to produce more than my left. So while it was not my preferred side, I learned to be comfortable getting uncomfortable (thank you, marathon training!) and made sure to practice holding her with my right arm too.

Ultimately, I learned that the goal wasn’t to force my body into a textbook breastfeeding position. It was to find a position where both my daughter and I could be comfortable—and where I wasn’t sacrificing my back in the process.

The Pain Culprit: Breastfeeding or Simply Postpartum Life?

I never found myself in insurmountable scoliosis-related pain because of breastfeeding itself.

But separating breastfeeding from everything else happening to my body during those early months is nearly impossible. The combination of postpartum recovery, constantly carrying a baby, feeding her, pumping, sitting or laying for long periods, and generally existing in a sleep-deprived-parent-of-a-newborn haze meant there were plenty of aches and muscle tightness.

Every time I went to lay down during that first year, my heating pad was lit. Heat therapy works very well for me personally, so I use it daily, even as I’m writing this, in fact! 

For me, the key was paying attention before the discomfort became significant. In the first few weeks, my upper body felt quite stiff, mostly from laying down so much in the hospital and lack of movement my body was accustomed to. If something didn’t feel good, I changed positions. If I needed more support, I grabbed another pillow. If my muscles were tight, I reached for my heating pad and resistance bands to do some light mobility work, like shoulder pass-throughs and banded pull-aparts—my go-to upper body moves.

It wasn’t about avoiding discomfort altogether. It was about not ignoring what my body was telling me and doing little things daily to try and prevent bigger moments of pain.

Pumping With a Fused Spine

Breastfeeding was only one part of the equation. There was also pumping. And carrying pump supplies in a backpack. And sitting in strange chairs trying to use said pumping supplies while simultaneously attempting to maintain some semblance of normalcy while caring for an infant. Oh yeah, and caring for myself.

Traveling while pumping was one of the most logistically challenging things I’ve ever gone through, but that’s a story for another day. 

Pumping required me to be hyper-aware of my posture—lest the phalanges pop off and milk splays in every direction—and the weight of the backpack I traveled with, especially if I was toting around my Spectra pump. I purchased a wearable pump which allowed me to travel more lightly while pumping and helped create a nice balance between pumping and navigating the rest of my life without feeling too tethered.

How Breastfeeding Changed My Relationship With my Body

With experience comes wisdom. And if training for and running multiple marathons has taught me anything, it’s that my body is incredibly capable even though it is structured differently. Having scoliosis and a fused spine does not render my body incapable; sure, there are things I need to occasionally modify, but I truly believe there is nothing that I cannot do because of this condition and its accompanying hardware.

Breastfeeding, just like running a marathon, didn’t intimidate me. I knew that I could do it. The uncertainty stemmed around how my body would respond to the physical demands of it. Or maybe it wasn’t so much uncertainty in my mind as it was curiosity. But you never know what’ll happen until you do the thing.

So we did—and we did it in a way that worked best for us. And that’s what matters.

Scoliosis Doesn’t Get the Final Say

Reflecting back now, I’m so proud of how I approached breastfeeding—not because I did it for 13 months, but because I didn’t let scoliosis dictate my journey.

It’s true:
I didn’t know how my back would respond.
I didn’t know which positions would work.
I didn’t know whether breastfeeding would be uncomfortable or surprisingly easy.

I just knew that I would try—and try my best.

And that’s the same lesson scoliosis has taught me over and over again: My body may have some structural differences. It may have curves and rods and muscles with an uncanny memory that sometimes pull me in a direction I don’t want to go.

But that doesn’t mean I stop doing the things I want to do. Sometimes I just have to do them a little differently.

Breastfeeding was no exception.

I nursed. I pumped. I supplemented. I figured out what worked for my body and our lil bub, and didn’t care what anyone else thought. And let me tell you the internet is always full of opinions and thoughts about breastfeeding.

I can look back on it all now with such admiration of the woman I was in those moments: It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t without discomfort.

But we did it.

Scoliosis, spinal fusion, rods, and all.