A Small Rant... or... Learning to Think Before You Speak

So, the Juliens have been under the weather. Maya kicked her fever last Saturday. Then she got a little rash all over, which the doctor said was a perfectly normal effect of the virus. Whew. Sunday, I got a headache. I still had the headache when I woke up on Tuesday. It was different enough from headaches I've had before, that I decided to go to the doctor. His gut instinct told him I was fine, he said, but he said "if this were a multiple choice test, the correct answer would be 'cerebral hemorrhage'. So I'd like you to have a CT scan." I was really just looking for some kind of breast-feeding friendly pain-killer, but, OK, I'll have the CT scan. Fortunately, it was "unremarkable." Unfortunately, he and his colleagues could not find a headache medicine that was safe for Maya. Tylenol is it. It's slowly been taking the edge of the headache, but it is not gone by any means. Unfortunately again, though, the contrast solution for the CT scan is not breastfeeding friendly. So it meant Maya had to eat some formula. But that's fine; we've been really flexible in that respect anyway, and Maya's been a champ moving from breast to bottle and constantly back and forth (which, by the way, has made the transition to day care much better).

Here comes the rant part...

Yesterday, when we got home from day care, I noticed Maya had a different, though less extensive rash. I called the pediatrician's office to ask about it, and, to make a long story short, they wanted her to be seen in the urgent care clinic yesterday evening. I took Maya, and while we were waiting to see the doctor, Maya got hungry and fussy. So I took out the makings of a bottle, made it, and started feeding it to her. A woman across the way was waiting with her two small children. Here was her conversation with one of her children (I'm sitting with Maya about 10 feet in front of this family, facing them):

Child: Where'd the baby go?
Mom: They sat down, right over there. The baby is eating.
Child: Oh.
Mom: That baby is eating from a bottle. Did you ever eat from a bottle?
Child: (Silently stares at his mother)
Mom: No. You were a lucky baby.

This just about did me in. I leaned in to Maya and said, loud enough for anyone to hear: "Maya, I think you're a very lucky baby. And I'm a very lucky mommy."

This goes to the heart of the breastfeeding stigma that has made me angry for years (yes, even before I was a mother myself). You're no longer looked down upon if you breastfeed; you're looked down upon (severely) if you DON'T, no matter what the reason is. Yes, breastfeeding is (usually) better for your baby. Yes, it's likely better for the mother, too. Yes, even Maya gets the vast majority of her nutrition from breastmilk (though, often from a bottle). But there are many instances in which it is in fact better for the baby and/or the mother to use formula either temporarily or permanently. Not to mention that it's nobody's business but mine and Maya's doctor's what my baby eats. There is a very large and outspoken population that behaves much the same way as this woman in the doctor's office waiting room that should really learn to think before they speak.

Maya's rash, by the way, probably just a leftover from the virus. Everything else checked out great. We're going to see the doctor again tomorrow just to check in before Maya and I head to California with grandma...