Long before we were married, my husband told me that doctors thought he probably couldn't have children. I didn't care. I was in love with the man.

Six years later, we were negotiating a job that would move us to Spain. Valencia, Spain. All warm and cozy on the Mediterranean Sea, where the climate made it ideal for growing famous oranges - not that I needed convincing. I dusted off my copy of Don Quixote and reviewed the rules for Spanish verb conjugation. When my period was late, I assumed it was stress.

Two weeks later, we bought a pregnancy test. Then we bought a second test to confirm the results of the first. I cried for days while my husband sat like a bad dog in the corner of our living room, but strange things happen when a woman discovers she's pregnant. My Spanish lexicon was replaced with the language of pregnancy, and Don Quixote got bested by What To Expect WhenYou're Expecting.

I decided to nurse my baby as the thought appealed to me in a primal way. Not only would I give life to the child growing inside me, but when he was born I alone could sustain him.

According to my book, the baby would be too tired to eat after birth, but the offer should be made. That made sense. My breast would act like a peace offering. "Welcome to Earth," it would signify. "You have traveled far, and when you're rested, food will be provided." After 21 hours of labor, I looked forward to the rejection. Instead, the Martian nursed for over an hour, and he was equally greedy for the next 10 months. Two years later, our daughter arrived. I nursed her for 13 months.

When I learned I was pregnant a third time, my husband asked me if I had catcher's mitt down there. Catherine was smaller than her siblings, but more disturbing was her nursing. Here was the baby the book predicted. Catherine didn't nurse at birth, and when she started nursing her latch felt wrong. Six days later, our pediatrician discovered the problem. Catherine was tongue-tied.

The doctor lifted her tongue to expose the culprit. "This is the lingual frenulum," she said, pointing to what looked like a piece of yo-yo string. The lingual frenulum is a band of tissue that attaches the tongue to the mouth.Tongue-tie results when the band is too tight or when it's attached to the tip of the baby's tongue, as it was in Catherine's case. Breastfeeding, she explained, can be problematic. She said she could fix it.

I held my child while the doctor clipped the string with scissors, and when I put her to me the feeling was finally familiar. I left thinking our nursing problems were over.

Three months later, abdominal pain forced me to the ER, and gallbladder surgery was scheduled for the morning. I pumped milk for my absence, but complications kept me in the hospital for over a week.

Catherine had been taking formula, and I thought we'd pick up where we left off. When I put her to me she latched on, sucked, but got nothing in return. She screamed as though I'd betrayed her. The hospital lactation consultant said I could try a drug called Reglan to help me regain my milk, but that it didn't always work. She suggested I be happy with the time I'd given my baby, and so did my family. After the hospital, I didn't want another drug in my body, but I wasn't ready to give up on nursing, either.

I called the hospital back and was directed to a lactation coach from La Leche. She said my body was in shock and that I could regain my ability to nurse, without medication, if I worked with a pump. I was skeptical. Then she told me she coached an adoptive mom who was later able to produce half of her child's nutrition.

I never completely got back what I'd lost, so we did need to supplement. Today, Catherine is a beautiful and precocious 7-year-old, and I expect she would have gotten there had we gone exclusively to formula. The thing is, I'm not sure that I would have been okay, and I'm glad I had the courage to ask for other options.

This experience taught me two things: one, you are your own best advocate; two, we choose our battles. Breastfeeding is a unique experience for every woman. Your commitment to it will take you a long way, but if you run into trouble there are people who can help.

Having children was a joy I never expected, and breastfeeding them was a decision I'll never regret. I wouldn't trade the lessons I learned from them for all the oranges in Spain.

Tanya Scherschel is a freelance writer who lives with her husband and three children. She believes that parenthood is the real, "toughest job you'll ever love."