Why I needed to lie about breastfeeding

Last updated: 18/03/2015 09:00 by AlisonCurtis to AlisonCurtis's Blog
Filed under: According to Alison
There are so many questions to discuss when you are pregnant. Do you know if you are having a boy or a girl? Do you have any names picked out? Where are you having the baby? Are you aiming to do it naturally? Where are you buying your crib, your buggy, your changing table? And so on...
 
One thing I don’t really remember talking about during those nine months was breastfeeding. I told my husband I would give it a go and if it didn’t work out, I wouldn’t feel guilty; and if it did work out, at six months and one day I would stop.
 
Of all the reading I did when pregnant, I only read a small bit about breastfeeding and to be honest, it was hard to get information that wasn’t emotionally driven. I just wanted the facts - why it is good for the baby, how to do it and how to wean the baby when you can’t take any more.
 
Fast forward to the day Joan arrived and I will always remember the nimble, slender fingers of a midwife who literally turned my boob into a 90 degree angle to get it into Joan’s tiny mouth and left me to it. Despite having had an emergency Caesarean section and Joan being early, it worked. For the next few months Joan and I travelled around together - just her, me and my two boobs!
 
I did encouter a few challenges along the way. First off, I wasn’t so comfortable with ‘the sisters’ hanging out in public (or in private in front of people) so I had to find a blanket or a sheet or  curtains or something. I struggled with her baby blankets for awhile; either they made her too hot or  they just slipped off my shoulders, defeating the whole purpose.
 
Then I discovered Bebeaulait. It basically looked like I was going to play the harmonica with a sheet drapping down infront of me, but it worked. The metal ‘shelf’  kept the material off Joan so she could feed in comfort, I could peep in on her whenever I liked and no one could see me naked from the waist up.
 
Some people along the way said: “Why are you bothering? Just feed her, I don’t mind.” But the issue wasn’t if they minded; in my mind, it was that I did. I’ve never owned a bikini, nevermind sipping a latte in a café in half of my birthday suit.
 
This was something that I noticed was very different in Ireland compared to Canada. While mums are encouraged to breastfeed in both countries, in Canada, not covering up while doing it in public seems to be the requirement. I admire those women who don’t use ‘covers,’ but during my journey as a breastfeeding mum, I knew I wasn’t one of those women.
 
The next challenge was clothing. Finding tops that you could access your bra in, as well as bras that you could undo easily, all while having lunch with your buddies, was tough. Inevitably, I wore tops that would leave my middle chilly all around. I don’t know if I actually resolved this challenge; I think I just learned to live with it…
 
 
The third challenge that we, as a couple, encountered was that Joan wouldn’t take a bottle, even with expressed milk. This meant that she and I were literally joined at the boob. If I ever left her with my husband during those first six months, he had no arsenal for when she got upset or hungry. It was frustrating and draining for him and it meant that while I was out, all I did was worry about them. It also meant that my husband had to wait until we started to introduce solids before feeding became a shared experience. Other couples who breastfed worked around this issue, but it was one we never seemed to quiet resolve.
 
The fourth and biggest challenge was deciding when to stop breastfeeding. When ‘six months and a day’ rolled around, there was no way I was going to stop. My boobs still filled several times a day, I had invested in my harmonica cape and highly engineered bras, and Joan was happy. So was I. I loved the closeness of the experience; I loved to smell the top of her head as she fed; I loved her trying to play with my hair; I loved rubbing her cheeks; and I loved holding her. It was cozy and lovely. Then a year passed and I still felt the same - we were both happy, she was healthy and it worked, so why stop?
 
When she was 18 months, I started to internalise some guilt and a little shame over the fact that she was still feeding. She had nearly all her teeth,  she had been walking and talking for months and a lot of my friends stopped breastfeeding well before this stage. I started to ‘omit the truth’ when asked if I was still breastfeeding and was only really honest about it with a handful of people. I would get uncomfortable if we were out and she started to reach up my top, but at the same time, I didn’t want her to get upset.
 
It is only now I’ve stopped that I think about why I felt this shame and needed to lie about the fact I was breastfeeding a two-year-old. There is so much pressure on new parents and I feel I have heard all opinions around breastfeeding.
 
I have encountered those who strongly judge those who don’t do it and claim formula is a disgrace. I’ve also come across women who said they weren’t even going to try breastfeeding. I’ve heard men say they asked their partners not to breastfeed so they wouldn't’ feel left out. The most upsetting were those conversations with close friends about their dispair when they couldn’t breastfeed.
 
What I have taken away from all these discussions is two things: everyone’s situation is unique and judging others doesn’t help anyone. We all have moments of doubt when becoming parents and we shouldn’t risk making others feel the same.
 
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Déanta in Éirinn - Sheology
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