I was heavily pregnant when I went to an information evening about breastfeeding. It was held in a room at the local hospital by a woman named Carla.
“Bring a cushion, because the chairs are not comfortable,” Carla had said in the email. And so twenty heavily pregnant women waddled into the room with a pillow under their arm. The spectacle would last 2.5 hours and of course you would want to sit comfortably. After all, you’re miserable enough as a pregnant woman. You can’t have fair seat meat there.
Sweaty position
Except for the rock hard chairs, Carla (type: short spicy haircut) was well prepared. She had a Baby Born and a big, round fake breast with her. I was hoping we would throw it away, but that turned out not to be the case. Carla would hold the Baby Born and the fake breast in front of her own body dozens of times that evening to demonstrate all kinds of latching positions. For a moment I was afraid that I would fall asleep, there among the pregnant women. The temperature in the room was sweaty. I heard a number of pregnant women puffing so fanatically that I wondered if someone shouldn’t come and take a look. Whether there was a head visible, and so on. At one point a pregnant woman almost fainted. She was escorted out quite early in the evening. We will never know whether this woman ever managed to successfully breastfeed.
Elderly infiltrator
Okay, so I was afraid of falling asleep, but that didn’t happen, because the evening had quite a few surprising twists in store. Carla was busy with the chapter ‘the composition of breast milk’ when a woman shuffled in behind a walker. I estimated her to be at least 120. “Ma’am, this is the information evening about breastfeeding for pregnant women,” said Carla. “Oh, I’m not,” the woman laughed loudly. That was already clear to us. She shuffled away. Ten minutes later a nurse entered the room looking for the woman. Another ten minutes later the woman came in again, without a nurse. I dare say that this spectacle has prevented me from ever mastering multiple docking positions. Who can concentrate on a fake breast when there’s a real old man chase going on?
Set embittered
“Who is pregnant with her first child?” Carla asked when peace had returned. All the pregnant women raised their hands, except one. She sat next to her partner in the row behind me. Just in my dead corner. I couldn’t see them without straining my neck, but I heard them quite often throughout the evening. Too often. It was like this: with their first child, the breastfeeding process had been quite dramatic. They wanted to do that differently with their second one. A noble goal, if it weren’t for the fact that they had become a little bitter. That may sound very unkind on my part, but believe me: they really forced their bitterness on us. They literally raised their hands in the air with every chapter. “I am missing information here about supplementary feeding/too little production/cracked nipples/inverted nipples/breast infections,” they would say. They wanted to discuss everything in the ‘problems’ category. Read: they wanted to complain about their own experiences. Carla tried to keep things positive, but texts such as ‘breastfeeding works smoothly and painlessly for most women’ went completely down the wrong way with this couple. They showed this by passive-aggressively sighing or once again sticking a finger in the air. When Carla asked several pregnant women in the audience how long they aspired to breastfeed and someone answered “at least a year”, there was cynical laughter in my deaf corner. “Yes, yes, just wait…” they whispered to each other.
Life lessons
That evening I learned all about feeding on demand, freezing milk and various pumping equipment. I didn’t know yet how long I wanted to breastfeed. I didn’t want to start pumping when I had to work again. But I knew one thing for sure: no matter how breastfeeding went, I wouldn’t become bitter. And I wouldn’t bother other pregnant women with my disappointments either. Oh, and when I’m 120 I’ll definitely run from my nurse and infiltrate puffing classes. Seems like a laugh to me. I’ll bring my own pillow. You cannot use stock market meat even as an elderly person.
Tara (29) is mother of daughter Rosie (9 months). Follow her momlife via Instagram.com/tarastokdijk
2024-02-26 18:13:47
#Tara #entire #breastfeeding #process #bitter
