The plan was that she would drink her bottle on the way over to our missions pastor’s house, she’d fall asleep in her car seat, and then we’d set her car seat in some remote corner at their house while we visited with our mission’s care team.
Instead, she refused the bottle, stayed stubbornly awake for the drive, and spent the entire visit (all of which was after her normal bedtime) climbing around on the floor where we sat.
Well, except when she grew hungry and I pulled the bottle out of my purse to feed her with.
I know our missions pastor’s wife breastfed – her daughter got fussy while we were visiting during a new person welcome function when Daniel and I were new at the church, and she and I talked a bit about breastfeeding. Our missionary had been breastfeeding her sweet daughter as we all talked. She’d mentioned wanting to maybe learn more about maternal/child health so she could help the women she worked with – and mentioned breastfeeding specifically as part of that.
And I just pulled a bottle out of my purse.
I’m not usually self-conscious about my mothering – Daniel and I have been entrusted with the care of our daughter, and we’re caring for her as we know best. I don’t obsess over what anyone else thinks about that. I’m pretty confident that I’m doing the right thing – and I don’t need validation from others to give me that confidence.
Until I pulled a bottle out of my purse.
At that moment, I worried what these people would think. I’m a bottle-feeding mom. I don’t value breastfeeding. I don’t understand its importance. I’d just told one of the other women that I’d been a WIC dietitian before Tirzah Mae was born – would she think WIC wasn’t pro-breastfeeding?
I stuck the nipple in Tirzah Mae’s mouth and she sucked it down like the bottle-feeding pro she is.
No one mentioned it.
I wanted to defend myself, to interject that Tirzah Mae was getting expressed breastmilk. Could I somehow work the fact that I still have breastmilk from Tirzah Mae’s hospitalization in my freezer into the conversation? There was no opportunity. No need, really. But I wanted to defend myself from what I feared the other women were thinking.
Everyone’s eyes were closed to pray when Tirzah Mae grew fussy again. I stood and we walked to the side of the room to breastfeed. She calmed down and I returned my blouse to normal. Someone closed the prayer time and everyone’s eyes opened again.
It’s the first time I’ve ever bottle-fed in public.
I let out an audible sarcastic gasp when I read the title of this blog post. :D ha! I never produced milk (at all….) and so, after panicking and assuming what everyone said was true (i.e., my child would die without breastmilk) we resorted to the bottle. Eventually I quit panicking about this. But I’m laughing because I do know the feeling of pulling out a bottle in public in a room full of breastfeeding mamas. It is a bit nerve wracking even if you know that you’ve just got to do it or starve the kid. Which is totally not an option….