I Hated Breastfeeding. Deal with It.

A few days ago, I wrote a post on The Stir about some of the more ridiculous breastfeeding t-shirts I’ve seen on the market. From a woman’s t-shirt bearing the phrase “Nipple Lickin’ Good” to a ball cap for dads that says “I play with my baby’s food,” I questioned whether some of the pro-breastfeeding t-shirts out there, rather than raising breastfeeding awareness, simply made the men and women wearing them look like tacky, tacky fools.

Some readers agreed with me, some didn’t– which I expected.

But the real controversy came over the fact that I wrote these words:

“I considered breastfeeding to be a very private burden I shouldered for the sake of my children, and while I was honored to be able to do it, you can bet I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a t-shirt bragging about it.”

OMG SOMEONE CALL THE BREASTFEEDING POLICE. WE HAVE A TRAITOR IN OUR MIDST.

“I NEVER considered BFing ‘a private burden a shouldered for the sake of my children.’ Maybe you’re so against pro-BFing shirts because of your views on nursing…” sniped one reader.

“I agree with some of the other commenters who stated that you may have an issue with breastfeeding because of your “private burden” comment,” wrote another.

“I’m more concerned with your describing breastfeeding as ” very private burden I shouldered for the sake of my children”….wow sounds like you have breastfeeding issues that have absolutely nothing to do with a silly T-shirt,” added a third.

And this is what breastfeeding has become. Even if you yourself breastfed, if you’re not waxing rhapsodic at all times about the glorious wonderment of nursing your child, then you have ISSUES WITH BREASTFEEDING and/or (I’ve gotten this one in the past) YOU WERE DOING IT WRONG.

So I’m just going to say it here publicly because I believe I’m speaking for a group of women out there who’ve breastfed and been scared silent about the fact that it was not entirely a positive experience.

I hated breastfeeding.

I HATED it.

I tried to stay positive both times I did it, and yes, of course I had those rosy, treasured moments of bonding time with my children as a result of breastfeeding (although I don’t believe they were any more special than they would have been if I were tenderly giving my babies a bottle), but overall?

Breastfeeding was a burden. And while I’m totally okay with the fact that many of you out there loved/love breastfeeding and didn’t/don’t consider it to be a burden at all, I believe there’s something wrong with the fact that a mother is judged for admitting that it was a burden for her.

So in the interest of getting real, here’s why I hated it…

• My hormones were out of control the entire time I breastfed. I wouldn’t just get annoyed, I’d get PROFOUNDLY ANNOYED. I wouldn’t just get tears in my eyes when something went wrong, I’D SOB. THAT’S TWO YEARS OF MY LIFE, people. I think I can fairly call two years of effed up hormones “a burden.”

• Both times I had children, the pain of breastfeeding for the first week and a half was worse than childbirth. It was torturous. Hellish. I had read up on it and knew that it would get better after the first 11 or so days (and it totally did- in fact, it didn’t hurt at all after that), but man, that was not something I needed to be dealing with immediately after having a baby. And yes, both my babies were latched on correctly. La Leche made sure of that.

• I’m a modest person and when you’re breastfeeding, modesty pretty much flies out the window. Everyone who lives in my house regularly saw my boobs, and since I have two older stepdaughters, we were always out at their events and activities and I’d have to nurse anywhere I could. While I definitely believe nursing moms should be able to nurse wherever they want (and I did), I didn’t enjoy breastfeeding in public, okay? I DIDN’T ENJOY INADVERTENTLY FLASHING MY NURSING BOOBS AT STRANGERS AND ACQUAINTANCES. I MUST HAVE ISSUES.

• Breastfeeding gave me more embarrassing moments than I can count, from leaky boobs in public to the aforementioned accidental flashing to (in my case) having a motorized pump crap out at the BlogHer conference and asking a near-total stranger (at the time) to borrow her pump motor, which necessitated knocking on her hotel door at random times all weekend and pumping in the room with her (admittedly very understanding) mother.

• My son was a biter. ‘Nuff said.

Despite all this, I’m pretty proud of myself for getting through it. Yes, it was a burden. It was an imposition. It wasn’t my thing. But I did it because I was able to do it. I did it because my pediatrician recommended it. I did it because I loved my children so much that it seemed entirely reasonable to endure something that (FOR ME) was at times painful, inconvenient, and embarrassing. (But I think bottle-fed babies are just fine, too, mind you. Heck, I’m one of them.)

I did it and I hated it.

And guess what? That is totally, completely okay.