So yeah… I’ve never felt embarrassed to breastfeed in public. I always figured my kid needed feeding so I was going to get the job done. That’s my job as Chick’s parent– you know, make sure he doesn’t starve.
I have felt amused when a couple sitting next to me asked to be reseated when I was nursing my child.
I have felt angry when creepy frat boys tried to get a peak at my boob when I was nursing my child.
I have felt profoundly uncomfortable when a man sitting across from my table at a restaurant stared at me while I was nursing my child. (Just yesterday, my friends.)
Though there are parts of this video that I don’t entirely agree with (the formula thing, for example, can be more complicated than a 3 minute clip allows), I do appreciate the central question: In a culture that puts breast on every other billboard and splashes them indiscriminately on magazine covers at the super market check out… Can’t we just get over breastfeeding in public?
Okay, so… Normally, I hate these kinds of list because they are trite and usually don’t speak to me at all. I’ve found motherhood to be much more complicated than I thought. I gave it a try because it comes from one of my favorite podcasts, On Being.
And I was validating in my decision to spend 5 minutes of my life reading a blog post because it was generally really nice. Especially the end…
“Become a mother in none of these ways, because it is both the most universal and most idiosyncratic of experiences. Make your own list. Hunt for your own perfect metaphor. Just risk love.”
32 Steps on the Rocky and Rewarding Path of Motherhood and Self-Discovery
When I was a teenager, I wrote copious amounts of bad poetry.
When I was a young adult, I read fair quantities of wonderful poetry.
As parent, I hardly have time to wash my face.
Which is why I was so pleasantly surprised listening to a podcast on my commute this morning where poet David Whyte read “Everything is Waiting for You.”
Years of infertility and the loss of my mom made me feel so intensely alone. This poem is a beautiful reminder of how not alone we all are, if we chose to live with intent.
Everything is Waiting for You
Your great mistake is to act the drama
as if you were alone. As if life
were a progressive and cunning crime
with no witness to the tiny hidden
transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny
the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,
even you, at times, have felt the grand array;
the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding
out your solo voice You must note
the way the soap dish enables you,
or the window latch grants you freedom.
Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.
The stairs are your mentor of things
to come, the doors have always been there
to frighten you and invite you,
and the tiny speaker in the phone
is your dream-ladder to divinity.
Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into
the conversation. The kettle is singing
even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots
have left their arrogant aloofness and
seen the good in you at last. All the birds
and creatures of the world are unutterably
themselves. Everything is waiting for you.
— David Whyte
from Everything is Waiting for You
©2003 Many Rivers Press
It’s all true. If prisoners of war were treated like babies treat their parents, there would be tribunals and shit.
5 Banned CIA Torture Techniques Babies Use To Break You
As someone who didn’t get to pack a maternity bag (Thanks for the early arrival, Chick,) I find it interesting to see what other women think of as essential to their birthing experience. Even more so when those women are in Malawi, Nicaragua, the UK, NYC…
What the world’s women pack in their maternity bags – in pictures