Are you the kind of person who feels uncomfortable when you see a woman breastfeeding in public? Don’t you wish she’d just go home- where she belongs, AMIRIGHT?- and handle that icky stuff in private like a rational human being? Never mind the hungry, probably wailing baby she has with her. You’re just trying to finish your Big Mac over here and I get that.
Well, I am guilty of breastfeeding in public because I’ve got this crazy idea in my head that when my baby has a need, I should meet it. I’m sure you’re sympathetic to the fact that I’d rather my son not grow up to be a woman hating sociopath because he never felt like his mother cared about him, but also I mean, at what cost? Y’know?
I’m so sorry that you can’t handle knowing that my boobs are exposed under this floral print Eddie Bauer privacy cover that I paid twenty bucks for just in case I needed to hide my shameful milk bags from the innocent gaze of a supposedly mature adult. I know it must be traumatic for you: I’m over here with these big, luscious, fleshy mammaries that you’d typically be more than happy to stare at, but they’re practically bursting at the seams with milk and existing for a purpose other than your sexual enjoyment. This baby gets to pop a nipple in his mouth on demand but you’ve got to stand behind the counter here at Smoothie King with your eyes focused somewhere other than my amazing, massive cleavage or else you’re considered rude. What’s up with that?
Look, I know where you’re coming from. It’s downright un-American for boobs to do anything other than fill out white ribbed tank tops that become see-through when sprayed down with the same hose you use to rinse off your Dodge Challenger right before you coat that bad boy in Turtle Wax and drive on down to the beach for an epic game of ultimate frisbee with your bros. I can appreciate that. Why should I be over here sustaining life in the same public space as you? Perhaps it IS bad etiquette for me to expect a little bit of common courtesy when I just want to discreetly feed my son while carrying him around the zoo in a Baby Bjorn. You’re totally justified in telling me how gross it is.
I also understand how unfair it is that I chose to go and get myself knocked up but then expect special treatment when I need a fifteen minute break at work to pump so I can relieve the excruciating pressure and discomfort when my breasts get engorged with milk. It’s definitely not your problem. If you can’t get fifteen minutes to sit in your car, listen to Nickelback, and smoke a joint, why should I be able to sit somewhere other than a broom closet and kick my feet up, jam my boobs into suction cups, and express milk? It’s just ridiculous.
There are so many compelling arguments about why breastfeeding in public is disgusting, weird, and just plain wrong. In fact, the more I think about it, maybe we should just outlaw breastfeeding altogether. I mean, it’s not like it’s a beneficial, magical practice that provides babies with awesome developmental advantages or anything. It’s not like it’s the most natural thing a mother can do and it definitely isn’t as though it makes it easier for moms to accomplish tasks while out and about that they otherwise wouldn’t be able to leave the house to do. We aren’t talking about something important here; we’re just taking about breastfeeding.
Boobs are for fun, not for food.