Know what really pushes my buttons? Uptight people.
Know what pushes my buttons even more? Ignorant uptight people.
The two are generally synonymous, but when it's blatantly obvious that someone is going for the title of Douche of the Universe, it makes my entire wall of buttons get all pushy-like.
Tonight I will discuss a topic that not only pushes my buttons, but twiddles my knobs, too. And I mean that in the least perverse manner possible.
You'd have to be living under a rock - nay, living at the bottom of a chasm in the deepest part of the ocean under a very heavy and unmovable rock - to not know breastfeeding is the golden standard for infant nutrition. It's not even an arguable point, as it has countless studies to back it up. This post isn't about whether or not babies should be nursed. I mean, I'm a postpartum doula with a background rich in breastfeeding courses: it should be apparent where I stand on that issue.
Gone are the days where I try to tell people how they should feed their child. The information is out there and you can decide for yourself, like I did. Heck, I have a few friends who didn't nurse and I still think they're cool chicks. Sometimes, we sit around the fire and sing Kumbaya while holding hands. It's a beautiful thing, our ability to accept each other.
Today, I saw a re-tweet (Twitter talk for a tweet - or post - from a person that is then rebroadcast by others) with a link to a post on born.in.japan. The blog itself is a good read, so I'll be putting it on my blogroll. However, the first picture in this particular post angered me as much as it did the author. You can visit the blog to see it for yourself, but essentially it's an posted ad from the site Chicago Now, which states:
Breastfeeding in public is tacky!
Seriously, how hard is it to find a bathroom, mommies?
Ouch.
Now, later on, the ad is replaced by another, nursing-friendly one. And when I checked out Chicago Now's site, I found this very supportive article about public breastfeeding. The poster was obviously a provocative attempt to incite web visits. I get it, but I don't like it.
***
I'm going to admit something here, not only because I'm trying to make a point, but because I hope it'll help someone else out if they stumble across my lowly little blog:
I used to be a bathroom stall breastfeeder.
There, I said it. It's a hard thing to admit, being the knowledgeable lactivist I am today. But it's because of those awful experiences of sitting on the toilet with my newborn that I'm able to encourage women to proudly nurse their babies wherever they are.
It didn't take me long to figure out that I was going to give breastfeeding an honest try. Even in 1996, the literature spoke loud and clear in favour of breastmilk, and I was so enchanted with my new son that I wanted to give him the very best start in life. At the same time, however, I was a mere twenty years old, was suffering from then-undiagnosed postpartum depression, had very few friends with kids and none who were nursing, and had not grown up with a lot of breastfeeding around me. This left me in a bit of a quandary: I wanted to exclusively nurse, I sucked large at pumping or hand-expressing, and yet I was very insecure and worried about what people would say if I were to let my baby eat in public.
What if someone saw my breast? What if someone was rude to me? What if the few friends we had left didn't want to hang out with us anymore because I made them uncomfortable?
See? I was a very different Maven back then. I was still in the caterpillar stage and not the soaring, glorious bitch of a butterfly I am today. It takes time to mould oneself into such a state of perfection, you know.
So I took it to the stalls. The smelly, disgusting stalls. There were no nursing rooms in Ottawa back then. There were no comfortable chairs just inside the bathrooms, even. So, to avoid mean looks and unwanted comments, I would put down the toilet seat and latch my baby on while I read the graffiti adorning the stall walls.
It didn't take me long to realize that I would rather deal with the douchery of others than subject my child to the bacteria-infested public washrooms. I clearly remember the day I walked into the bathroom, sat down on the toilet, got ready to nurse, said 'screw this' and walked back out again.
And then, I nursed everywhere. Everywhere. On the bus, on benches in the middle of Ottawa's largest and busiest malls, at people's houses without asking if I should leave the room, on our front porch, at the park, every-freaking-where. Was I discreet? As much as I wanted to be. If I covered up, it was for Intrepid's comfort or mine, and not for those around us.
And I dared someone to come up and say something to me, or look at me the wrong way. When I breastfed in public, I wouldn't sit with downcast eyes; I would look around at the faces of others to let them know that I wasn't ashamed of what I was doing. I was damn proud of it. And I would smile, and sometimes I would even say 'Hello' - I saved verbal greetings for the people who looked the most shocked/uncomfortable. I felt good about what I was doing: not only was I giving my baby the best, but I was making doing so a normal sight again - like it was two generations ago, or like it is in so many other, less uptight countries. I knew even back then that I was making it easier for the next generation of moms.
But that's me, right? That's full-throttle Maven mode. Unfortunately, I've counseled women much older than I was, who are new moms in a new decade where breastfeeding has once again become the norm, who are still terrified of publicly feeding their babies lest they be judged by others.
It makes me shake my head full of beautiful curls, it does.
So, let's see: We are feeding our babies in the normal, expected way with milk that is scientifically proven to be hugely beneficial to both mother and child - and produces absolutely no waste, I might add - and this is frowned upon? We're asked to cover up, pump into a bottle, or find a "quieter spot"?
And people think this is okay? Like I said: ignorant, uptight people really piss me off.
Sorry. I think I said they push my buttons. I was trying to be nice. Now I'm feeling less nice because I'm all angry-like.
The thing about Chicago Now's "advertisement" is that, while the blog seems to support public breastfeeding (as it should, really), seeing that statement on a sign with no further explanation could potentially cause a nervous mom to make a beeline for the nearest restroom. Worse still, opinions spouted off by ignoramuses, no matter where they are found, could make a pregnant woman decide not to breastfeed at all because she can't handle the comments. That's completely unacceptable to me, so it should be to you, too.
I'm always right, after all.
In short, I just don't want to see someone feel like they have to hide what their body is supposed to do. We're meant to make milk and our babies are meant to drink it. It's as simple as that. Anthropology 101. If you have a problem with a suckling baby, don't look. In fact, if it's really bothering you that much, I can direct you to the nearest bathroom stall. It's nice and private in there.
Rock on, nursing moms. This one was for you.
