Tag Archives: nursing

Breastfeeding in a public place: one woman’s story. Part Three

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Louisa and Digby

Louisa and Digby

See last week for the second installment of this story

The future

Louisa sits at a cross-road, unsure of her next move. As she admits ‘I wanted to think about how I could influence Karen in particular to change her attitude’, but after much thought admits ‘I’d love to talk to Karen, but feel that in this instance she’d just justify how wrong I was’. In protecting herself Louisa does not feel emotionally ready to approach Karen, an attitude I empathise with. Aware of how all-consuming this episode has become, Louisa is searching for a more therapeutic, constructive way of moving forward.

Healing actions

She could contact her local La Leche group for more formal support in a nurturing atmosphere. She could also become involved in campaigning for breastfeeding women’s rights at a local level, by talking to local business owners about the legal position of mother’s nursing in public places. Being proactive within a supportive environment of likeminded mums may increase Louisa’s confidence and friendship group, a way of turning a traumatic experience into a more positive one.
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Breastfeeding in a public place: one woman’s story. Part Two

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See last week for the first installment of this story

Reaching out for support

Shocked that such judgemental Victorian attitudes still exist, Louisa opened up the issue for debate on the popular social networking site Facebook, asking;

‘Why is there so much shame involved in this subject that it has become the mother’s fault? Why should we need to apologise in advance? Why did my ‘style’ of feeding mean that lady was justified in discriminating against me? This whole situation is unnatural and unpalatable.’

In doing so she opened up a can of worms; a thorny, massively contentious issue which crosses countless personal, social, political, emotional, historical, sexual and economic lines.
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Breastfeeding in a public place: one woman’s story. Part One

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These posts describe the experience of a nursing mother who was asked to leave a cafe in Devon, how she dealt with this request and the after effects, both short and longer-term.

A request to leave

Louisa is sitting feeding her three-month-old son discreetly in a small cafe in Devon, England. Unexpectedly, the cafe owner (we shall call her Karen) walks up to her in a confrontational manner and asks her to leave. Taken aback, Louisa asks why. Karen, a woman in her fifties, explains that she finds breastfeeding inappropriate and dirty, and is worried she will scare off other customers, of which at present there are none!

Utterly amazed and speechless, Louisa unlatches Digby, who responds by crying desperately, unused to any curtailment of his feeds and feeling the emotion of his mother rising. As Louisa prepares to leave, Karen asks if her if she would like her order as a take-away. Unable to respond, shaking, tearful and vulnerable, Louisa simply walks out of the cafe and down the street, abashed and confounded.
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To my nursling; what breastfeeding means to me

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Welcome to the August edition of Authentic Parenting Blog Carnival: Breastfeeding.

This post was written for inclusion in the monthly Authentic Parenting Blog Carnival hosted by The Positive Parenting Connection and Authentic Parenting. As August is Breastfeeding awareness month, our participants are writing about this exact subject! Please read to the end to find a list of links to the other carnival participants.


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Breastfeeding in Bali, June 2012

Breastfeeding in Bali, June 2012

To my nursling,

Here I offer you a poem to encapsulate what nursing means to me. Though words fail to describe my feelings surrounding nursing, they can at least begin to sketch a picture of the significance of breastfeeding in our mother-son relationship. Maybe one day, years from now, my words will touch some place deep within you, a warm, hazy memory of childhood contentment and security, a little of what breastfeeding also meant to you.

Mummy and Ewan, June 2012

Mummy and Ewan, June 2012

Our precious mother-child dyad,

A deep connection as you suckle;

I am giving, you are taking from me,

As your fingers wind through my hair twisting, curling, grasping,

Your eyes locked into mine.

In this symbiosis

Star-gazing deeply into each other’s eyes

Your look somersaulting me down through our twenty-six nursing months

To your tumultuous birth,

Your arriving wrenched into the world cold, alone, breast-starved for three long hours

Our pain and loss alleviated in our first meeting,

Our eyes locked, your knowing look,

Your long waiting over, reaching for me intuitively, latching on,

An expert at first suckle, contentment as your eyelids flutter to your first sleep,

My racing heart calming instantly by your nursing,

Oxytocin flowing through our bodies,

Bathing in this love I hold onto this first of countless nursing embraces,

Unearthing my mothering instincts as I hold this tiny being at my breast.

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Stepping out of the box and dealing with criticism

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This post is part of the; Authentic Parenting May Carnival

My son, my teacher

My son is my greatest teacher. In our first meeting our eyes locked as he looked, all knowing and serene, into my eyes shining with wonder. He communicated, with a depth amazing for a newborn, that it was all OK, that he would show me the way. Each and every day he keeps this first unspoken promise, teaching me to listen to him and to my mothering instincts, to really trust nature.

Which path

There are moments when I am swayed by mainstream society, becoming a sheep plodding along the well trodden, comfortable path, craving approval, normality and recognition. At such times all I must do is stop, question, and look to my son to steer me back to the right path. Yet this path is little travelled in this modern age, weeds tangle and knot as tree trunks lie haphazardly blocking the way, ancient wisdom and primordial practices, half lost, so difficult to find amongst the debris.

Walking this lonely path I eagerly look for other like-minded souls. I find a few and stumble upon others who are supportive and appreciative of this alternative style, even if they choose not to practice it themselves. I also begin to search the virtual world, one of the many wonders of our modern age, sharing my parenting style through writing. I find a growing online community who listen, applaud and reflect on my words, as I in turn listen and learn from theirs.

Support groups are also a lifeline to me, one an informal weekly meeting between local mum friends, the other a local La Leche League group. I also find wisdom in natural parenting literature, including research about the benefits of attachment parenting, which helps affirm my belief what I am doing is right. My cousin recently pointed out that my parenting is an example of research-based practice, which to a certain extent is true, although my son is by far greatest teacher, research often backs-up my practice.

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Dear Bonnie Fuller; response to Time’ Breastfeeding Mom Is Nuts Like Other Extreme ‘Attachment Parenters’!’ posted 11th May 2012. Part Four

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In response to; Bonnie Fuller; response to Time’ Breastfeeding Mom Is Nuts Like Other Extreme ‘Attachment Parenters’!’ posted 11th May 2012

  • I have made breastfeeding ‘the entire focus of [my] life’

This is wholly untrue. Nursing is a significant and integral part of my life, because it is one of the main ways I mother my child. However, it is not the focus of my life. It is one part of the whole, a part which enriches our lives, makes life easier and happier for us both.

  • I clearly have no time to inspire him with my efforts ‘to passionately pursue interests that can open up’ his mind to ‘his own life possibilities’

This is an outlandish preposition. I hardly know where to start to defend nursing mothers from this slanderous attack. How you can equate breastfeeding with narrowing the life possibilities of their children is beyond me, but somehow you have managed to. Many women who choose to practice sustained breastfeeding are brave, passionate, strong women, who make the decision to carry-on beyond the prescribed social norm because of their convictions and knowledge of the many benefits. This in itself is a fantastic role model to follow, which cannot be faulted.

  • I have to carry Ewan ‘every single minute of the day’, and I ‘need to sleep with’ him in my bed, ‘even at risk of suffocating or crushing’ him.

I do not have the time or space to explore the fascinating topics of baby-wearing and bed-sharing in this post. Both these accusations again display your ignorance of attachment parenting. You are extreme in your views because you know so little about these behaviours, which again have been practiced for millennia and are still common in much of the world. Both baby-wearing and bed-sharing  are hugely misunderstood aspects of human behaviour; bed-sharing like sustained breastfeeding a cultural taboo in our society, baby-wearing often viewed as a ‘hippy’ activity which few ‘normal’ parents would choose to do with the option of a pushchair available. These are highly variable, complex activities which cannot easily be pigeon-holed or judged.

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