Why Children Need to See Breastfeeding . . . Especially in Public

"You can't play with that baby right now.  His mama is doing something you shouldn't have to see." It's hard to convey the disdain uttered in those words spoken about me at a hockey game a few weeks ago.  Moments earlier, we had been friendly strangers.  The six or seven year old girl in question had been playing peek a boo with my eleven month old and letting him play with her game day pom poms.  As action on the ice heated up, all of us had been drawn to the ice and conversation and interaction had lulled.  Well, most of our attention was on the ice.  My sleepy baby had decided he was hungry and soundlessly nudged that it was time for him to eat.  As I was wearing a very modest nursing shirt, I was able to accommodate him on the stands and while I was not wearing a full nursing cover, no skin was showing (too cold. . . it's been non stop arctic blast here in Michigan).  However, when the little girl turned to tickle the happy, nursing baby's foot, her mother sprang into angry action, forcibly moving her to the other side of her and giving me looks that had they been translated into words would have been unprintable.  Deciding to not push the woman into saying more things that might lead her daughter to figure out that feeding the baby was what her mom was so angry about, I quietly ignored her and let my son nurse until he was finished.  Although the woman probably thought she was looking out for her daughter, I know I was doing the right thing and me nursing my son was exactly what her daughter needed to see . . . and her mother, too. Children need to see nursing especially in public because that is the only way it will ever become a normalized, supported part of the culture again.

I nurse in front of my elder son and other children all the time.  When I do that, I am also teaching.  I am teaching them that nursing a baby is not a sexual, private act (any more than bottle feeding is a sexual act).  I am also teaching them that breasts (and women) are not just sexual play things.  If I could have had a calm, private conversation with that mother, I would have explained that.  When we teach children that nursing should only be done in dark rooms or under blankets, we perpetuate the idea that breasts are purely sexual and that nursing is somehow a deviate act.  I am a naturally modest person and so the nursing I do publically is very modest, but that is a very personal choice.  In other eras, cultures understood breasts as both sexual and functional and had healthy cultures around it.  (In the Victorian Era, for example, when ankles were considered "racy" and women were swathed in dresses from neck to toe, nursing dresses of the time reveal almost no cover for nursing mothers and paintings suggest that nursing was done very publicly with no cover.)  In early American colonies, saturated with rules about the dressing and layering women must abide by from head to toe, paintings depict church, community meetings, and other public venues with women nursing very publicly uncovered.  Were these societies ones in which women had healthy non-over sexualized representations?  No.  However, these were socities in which breastfeeding was clearly not sexualized.  Nursing in public now, in this culture, is very important because it is an act that both desexualizes feeding babies and also works to de-hypersexualize women in our slightly more self-aware culture.

 Adults really struggle to be comfortable with this because they are products and participants in our

hypersexualized culture and, frankly, after decades of bottlefeeding as the cultural norm, breasts have become increasingly associated with sex.  Children, however, have no such suppositions and discomfort.  More children than ever are growing up in homes where breastfeeding is at least attempted if not completely successful than in many decades.  Children not growing up in those homes may be more curious when they see nursing mothers in public (the same way they are more interested in anything not found inside their homes and every day life), but they are equally open to seeing the act as normal as long as the adults around them present it as so.  This is why I did not engage the obviously angry mother in conversation.  I did not wish to goad her into saying in front of her daughter that nursing should not be done on demand or in a normal setting because it is not normal for her.  Her daughter had no awareness of why her mother was so on edge and I wanted to keep it that way.

So, what is the real effect of nursing in front of children?  It becomes completely normal and even dull.  How do I know this?  The photos in this blog are all taken by my four year old.  A self proclaimed photographer, he hasn't quite got the knack for composition and instead takes pictures of unposed inanimate objects, body parts, and other subjects that, frankly, most of us would find pretty uninteresting because his focus is learning how to work and focus his camera.  Among his photos of completely ordinary objects are pictures he's taken of me nursing his baby brother because nursing is so normal, it's boring . . . like blocks, feet, or a baby crawling .  This is what nursing looks like (whether in public or in private) in the eyes of a child who is used to it.   If children see enough public nursing, they won't notice, care, or see it as abnormal when they are older. Let's make nursing in public so normal and "boring" that our daughters and sons won't even notice it or care if they see a stranger at a hockey game feeding her baby. 

Thanks for reading, Shawna

Why Changing Birth Culture is Important for Our Sons as well as Our Daughters

My son loves books.  When we are at the library I try to preview most of what we check out, but sometimes books surprise me.  Recently, I checked out a book my son asked for that I thought was a standard book about welcoming a new baby into the family.  It turned out to be a very realistic and well done book (Hello Baby) about what a homebirth is like for young children.  The story is honest and simple and the illustrations are beautiful and specific without being too scary or overwhelming for the very young.  In fact, my son was fascinated by them.  The book actually brought about one of the coolest conversations I have ever had about birth with anyone.  After explaining that the illustration of the baby crowning was not the mama "pooping" out the baby, although I let him know I could understand why he would think that from the angle of the picture, I explained to him that a mother pushes a baby out of her vagina.  Instead of being repulsed or shutting down when he heard that word  (the way almost every male has reacted my entire life especially in a context about birth),  he was awestruck.  "That's why mamas have vaginas and not penises?  God makes them able to grow babies AND makes a way for the babies to get out into the world?  That is so AWESOME."

I forget sometimes what a new culture I am working to build for my sons, but moments like this remind me of why I am so dedicated to it.  No matter what he learns from the culture at large as he gets older, no one will ever be able to take away the honest, frank wonder and respect he felt for women that first moment when he realized how a baby is really born and why women are designed differently from men.  It's not because women and their reproductive organs are "yucky" or "impolite."  It's not because they are just mysteriously "different" just to confuse men.  It's because women have to be biologically different for us to procreate.  It is what we are designed to do. My son knows from the start that women are designed to birth babies and that a woman birthing is awe inspiring.  Imagine how he will feel about the woman who may one day birth his child.  Imagine how he will feel about being a birth partner if his initial memory is always one of wonder and not disgust or fear.  How much more prepared is he to be a good birth partner than most of our male partners were initially just starting from a place of understanding and respect rather than from ignorance and fear?  One day, he can look forward to his child's birth not only to meet the child, but also to see the wonder of his child's mother as a capable birther.  He doesn't need to be overwhelmed by any feelings that he does not "belong" there or that birth is scary or a secret that was never shared with him.  He can know what many of us didn't know until we were preparing to birth our children:  women are made to birth and birth may be powerful and life changing, but it  is also beautiful.

Changing birth options and birth choices may be couched in our understanding of women's rights and we may fight for best practices for our daughters to experience birth in a supportive, understanding, and safer environment, but we are also changing things for our sons who will one day support and love our daughters.  If I can teach my sons to be able to say the word "vagina" without giggling and to think of birth as natural and wonderful and I can teach my sons that breasts are made for breastfeeding first and sexuality as an additional, lovely bonus, I am normalizing birth and breastfeeding for men and women and creating a more supportive culture for women and men.  That's an awesome thing in and of itself.

Thanks for Reading,
Shawna

Nursing My 3-Year Old

If there is one thing that parenthood has taught me, its to take all my expectations and throw them out the window! Another, everyone has an opinion about how you're doing it wrong. Both of those are certainly true in regards to Gwen's and my nursing relationship as well.

I never thought I would be here, almost a month past celebrating my daughter's 3rd birthday, still nursing twice a day. I'm surprised, delighted, a little nursed-out, but still with the warmest of feelings towards this amazing journey that we've taken together.

I'm also finding myself slightly more wary to talk about this beautiful thing we share. That makes me sad. Something that is so normal, something with so many benefits (to mama and baby), should be celebrated, not stigmatized. Yet because my baby is 3, and not a baby anymore, I get judgement from many. "She's too old, you're stunting her independence."  "Its not nutritional anymore!"  "Its clearly only for you at this stage, let her grow up."

Thankfully, for every naysayer I've encountered, I've also found a supporter. Expected sources, like my family, who know that there is still some good nutrients in breastmilk, despite Gwen's age. Like my husband, who expressed how he hopes I'm still planning to let her self wean, since she gets so much comfort and joy from her nursing sessions. Like the doctor who said that nursing while I had a minor illness was a great way to pass on some antibodies to keep Gwen from getting it as well. Some expected sources as well, like the mother of one of Gwen's former classmates, who asked if we were still nursing, and told me what an awesome thing it was!

My 3-year old is a healthy, happy, thriving, very independent and spirited girl. We have an amazing bond, which is strengthened by this special thing we share. I'm making less milk now, and I know our days are numbered, but I'm going to try and enjoy every one that we have left. And I invite anyone to keep their mind open, and there judgement to themselves!



Just a note to say that I am a big supporter of breastfeeding, but also a big supporter of doing what is best for your individual family. If you were unable to or chose not to breastfeed, or chose to wean at an earlier age, please don't take the above as an indictment. I only ask that you extend the same non-judgement to me, as I do to you.



For more information about ages of weaning, what primate physiology tells us about weaning, and other breastfeeding statistics, check out these resources:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/05/16/time-breast-feeding-weaning-primates_n_1521831.html
http://kellymom.com/fun/trivia/bf-numbers/
http://www.childinfo.org/breastfeeding_countrydata.php
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Breastfeeding

Open Letter To Mainstream Media

Dear Mainstream Media;

I am not being oppressed by my parenting style. Thanks for your concern but you are missing a key piece of the story. You see; I am not solely responsible for building and maintaining my child's sense of attachment.

If I were I would most certainly find the weight of such a responsibility oppressive; I may even find the idea of shouldering that responsibility impossible. I may laugh or rage or otherwise dismiss it entirely. Instead I embrace the piece of mind that comes of following my child's cues with my heart and my instinct because I don't have to do it alone.

My son has a secure emotional attachment to me. My son is also attached to his father. He is attached to his grandparents. He is attached to his aunt and his uncle. He is attached to his other caretakers who all accept that they have a role to play in meeting his needs. He trusts these people to meet his needs because, though we have all made mistakes, he knows we have never failed to love him. I trust these people because, while mistakes are always a part of life and relationships, they have never failed to love me.

He has a village. I have a village. We have a village of people who love us, who trust us as much as we trust them, and who support us in every way they can without question or condition.

This kind of community is so rare in the culture we currently live in that it seems you can’t even imagine what it is like. You feed us images of strong women with headlines designed to imply competition, you feed the resulting public take down of strong women by releasing article after article about her body and her dress, you debate my status and power within my community on daytime talk shows, you create within the public awareness the illusion of ‘good mom’ and ‘bad mom’ and pit them against each other.

Your point is quite clear; if you can’t parent this way you aren’t enough, if you can you are either oppressed or an extremist. In your sphere there is no win for any woman. The point you are missing is all the ways our culture is failing our children, is failing women, and men, failing families. The story you are missing is how we could be doing more to support all families to make choices based on what they feel is right and not what is necessary to measure up to your standards.   

Attachment parenting isn't about mothers. It's about families and it's about community. By continually dismissing and denying the roll that other family and community members have to play in attachment parenting and child rearing in general it is you who are adding unneeded shame, guilt and stress onto women. 

Please stop.

Sincerely;

Julian: Feminist & Attachment Parent