Without showing much tangible activation in groups and movements on or off-line, I’m in favor of breastfeeding rights. Call me rah-rah breastfeeding. I say if a woman wants to breastfeed in public, by golly, she should get to.
There are plenty of stories floating around of incidents rallying against the right to breastfeed in public. Tales of shame and woe, of moms getting kicked out of stores and restaurants for their lack of decency. Not to mention that series of photos showing poor women and babies shoved into toilet stalls, the “go-to” place if you must deign to feed your infant outside of the home.
Use a bathroom! The horror!
Generally speaking, I breastfeed in public. I’ve never been quite the type to feed uncovered, but neither am I about to go out of my way to find some ultra-private nursing spot. It’s never been a problem.
Until today of the ultimate irony and perhaps an important bit in the public breastfeeding debate:
Today we went to a county fair. Instead of eating fair foods, we decided to take the opportunity to visit a Mexican restaurant we love. Jade needed to eat. Now, we actually have been moving her to mainly formula for medical reasons, but we had me instead of a formula.
Somehow, some reason, I got the bug in my brain to leave the table to feed her. I still don’t know why. I wandered away and found myself in the bathroom. Why was I in the bathroom? I honestly didn’t know.
Now, this wasn’t just any bathroom. This was one of the those one-room, one-toilet deals. Nice and roomy but the kind that cause lines.
Barely had I started feeding Jade than I heard the sounds of a small girl outside the door and her mother admonishing her to “wait her turn.”
We are going through potty-training hell with Ruby. You just can’t tell a little girl she can’t go to the bathroom.
And yet, by quietly heading to a bathroom to feed my child, I was ruining others’ lives.
I quickly departed and fed Jade at our table like a sensible person.
Because taking up a whole bathroom to privately feed your child is really rude.