On retiring the breasts
If you were a window washer outside my gynecologist’s office earlier this week, you might have heard the following conversation:
Dr. D: Have you noticed any pain or tenderness in your breasts lately?
Me: no
Dr. D: Any lumps or unusual swelling?
Me: no
Dr. D: Any changes in them since I saw you last year?
Me: They’re half the size they were when you saw them last year.
Dr. D: Well, they’ve worked hard, give them a break.
I weaned Maren about three months ago. I didn’t want to do it, but she was already fourteen months, and we were leaving on a trip without her, so it was time. Then, a few days ago, when I got out of the shower, Maren was standing in the bathroom. As I dried myself off, I realized she was staring at my breasts with a look of intense curiosity. It was almost as if she were saying, “I know those things are important for some reason, but I can’t exactly remember why.”
So now that I’ve weaned what will be, in all likelihood, our last baby (although I haven’t given up hope that he’ll give in, the whole Boston Marathon thing has put the relentless begging on hold for a few months), I keep wondering what the purpose of these old breasts of mine is for the next, well, potentially sixty years of my life. When they were young and new, they looked good, and maybe even helped me in the pursuit of a partner. Then, on and off for the last eight years, they’ve sustained four lives. But now what?
Other than the navel, I can’t think of any other external body parts that stay with us after they’ve ceased to be useful. My navel, tiny as it is, doesn’t require it’s own separate undergarment. My breasts, on the other hand, continue to be front and center, even though now they are at best, a pleasant place to rest a hand or a reminder of times gone by, and, at worst, a potential breeding ground for lumps and tumors.
It’s not that I don’t like my breasts, don’t appreciate them for what they’ve done, but now that they’ve served their main purpose, it seems kind of silly to me to think that they’re such a force in our culture– that they, in the minds of many people, sum up a woman’s womanhood. We’ve had all of these posts about pornography lately, and when I think about how pornography basically boils down to breasts (I know that’s overly simplistic, but when I think porn, I think breasts), I look at my own and think, “This is what all the fuss is about?”
I realize that many women never breastfeed and many never consider their own breasts to be sexual objects, and therefore don’t go through the feeling of retiring the breasts, so to speak. But every woman has an opinion about her own breasts. In light of that, what is your relationship to the breasts in your lives? How has that relationship changed over time?
If only porn was just pictures of breasts…..
Comment by septa — May 21, 2008 @ 12:59 pm
A friend told me an awesome story about how she was holding her baby boy in her arms right out of the shower and suddenly he reached over, said “ping!” and flicked her nipple. That was when she decided it was time to “retire” her breasts!
Comment by Whitney — May 21, 2008 @ 1:12 pm
I’m one of the women who felt so connected to my body throughout my life that when I gave birth for the first time I was horrified that my body was doing bizarre things. I was feeling I was under a revolution and being betrayed (oh my gosh, what’s that white stuff coming from my erotic breasts that hurts too!)
I tried pumping for about 1 month since baby#1 was lazy, but I felt so much like a cow MOO, I stopped and became much happier after. I tried with baby #2 for 3 days sobbing the whole time before my hubby helped remove the guilt and we happily went to a bottle.
That said, my breasts are very much a part of my womenhood to me. They’ve never been for the children (yes I’ve had numerous lactation nazi friends growl at me), they’ve been for me and my spouse. For me there’s a mindset you have to jump back and forth on (sexual - baby - sexual - baby) and I just couldn’t do it. It’s kind of like looking at something for a utility then expecting to be able to go back to feeling erotic about them again. It just didn’t work.
So here I am 6 months pregnant with final baby #3 and having the same dilemma of guilt as usual. Some women love this stage, but for me, I just can’t wait til I can completely own my body again… breasts included.
Comment by Elise — May 21, 2008 @ 1:19 pm
I have fantastic breasts. I’m just sayin’. (Not as fantastic as Janet’s, however…which nearly goes _without_ saying…)
However, mine are surgically altered. I had reduction surgery when I was a teenager, and I have honestly never done anything to my body that has continued to be so personally worthwhile. I was miserable about them before then, as well as seriously hampered by them. Nothing worse for an on-the-go, seriously athletic tomboy than ginormous boobs. Seriously.
My surgery, however, has made it unlikely that, should I ever have children, I will be able to breastfeed them. I’m honestly not sure how I feel about that. Maybe it means I will someday wish I’d chosen otherwise, but I doubt it. It almost certainly means that I’ll never feel that a physical part of me has been “retired.” Which I can’t help but feel is a good thing.
Besides, Shelah, don’t you plan to go on enticing your mate with them far into the future?
Comment by EmilyS — May 21, 2008 @ 1:38 pm
Elise-
I don’t think I’ve made the jump back in my mindset yet. For me it was sexual/baby/baby/little bit of sexual/baby/baby. So far, I still see them as workhorses.
Comment by Shelah — May 21, 2008 @ 1:39 pm
great post.
in my family it is mostly about the appearance of the breasts, I have sisters and sisters in law all planning surgical enhancements, and a father who thought it was funny dinnertime conversation to loudly wonder why Janet Jackson thought anyone would want to see her “ugly shriveled up old 40 yr old breasts”.
and I must admit, that most of my feelings about my own breasts stem from what they look like to others, in spite of the fact that often my art work was about the physically nourishing aspects of breasts…
weird.
okay, mostly this post made me want to read Yalom’s History of the Breast.
thank you for a thought provoking read.
Comment by G — May 21, 2008 @ 1:42 pm
Shelah,
I totally understand, thus why I didn’t want to continue on the baby route… it’s such a HARD jump to make back and forth. Once breasts are ‘for baby’ and leak and do all sorts of baby style stuff - and physically change, how one could turn them back into erotic / sensual organs for pleasure is beyond me. The women who have been able to leap back to that mindset certainly have my admiration and I kneel at their thrones.
I will say that a man I was dating before my hubby, told me he would sometimes take his exwife’s ‘leftovers from baby.’ He somehow made it sexual… and really enjoyed it. I was intrigued with his mindset to say the least, but oh well… never found out if it worked or not and my current hubby just isn’t into the idea.
Comment by Elise — May 21, 2008 @ 1:46 pm
My breasts are an important part of my sexuality. I enjoy breastplay as part of sex, and would be devastated if I had to have surgery for cancer, etc. Fortunately, my husband also enjoys my breasts and is willing to pay attention to them in bed.
This is just a tad embarrassing to admit, but thanks to his kind ministrations, I still have some fluid in the breasts years after weaning the last. I think that my breasts also appear firmer than many women my age because of that.
I think you make some great points about our breast-obsessed culture, but for me, the breasts are much more than “a pleasant place to rest a hand.”
Comment by Anonymous — May 21, 2008 @ 1:47 pm
EmilyS-
Check out bfar.org
Comment by mami — May 21, 2008 @ 1:56 pm
i couldn’t nurse, which was devastating for me, so i hate my breasts; i thought of nursing as the real purpose of breasts and i’m resentful of my loss. also, i’m petrified of breast cancer and it would just be so horribly wrong if my tissues turned on me in that way on top of not being able to nurse. i have a lot of tissue and i worry. i hate my body and my breasts are no different. my husband loves my body and my breasts are no different. so i tell him, you can have ‘em if you like ‘em so much.
Comment by chandelle — May 21, 2008 @ 1:57 pm
Anonymous- Seriously? Thats really interesting.
Comment by Racheldmc — May 21, 2008 @ 2:03 pm
I never liked my breasts until I breastfed my first baby. Before then, I really judged them. I felt they were too small.
Then I had Devon and breastfed him for 15 months. I was amazed and in awe that my body could do this! Even when they got small again after weaning, I didn’t care. I loved my breasts!
Then I had Carson and breastfed for 15 months. I remember once giving a lesson in Relief Society. He must have been 3 months old, I was in the post partum fog. The lesson was on talents, or something like that. I said, “The only thing I feel I am good at right now is breastfeeding.” It got a laugh, but sadly it was true. But at least I was good at something.
Then I had Bryson, again bf for 15 months. We really struggled for about 6 weeks for him to nurse well. Pumping, supplementing, it was a struggle. But I wanted to nurse him and we finally figured it out.
I was so sad when he weaned, because he is probably our last. My breasts have changed into 2 different sized small parts of my body. I hate wearing a bra, so I don’t. I love that they are small, so I don’t have to. Really I love them, they are not perfect, they are not perky, they are not big, but they fed my babies and now they just hang out on the front of my chest. I also love my belly, which is much rounder than it used to be, but I just really embrace my body how it is. A little softer and rounder, but amazing. I grew babies and I fed them. I think that is pretty cool!
Comment by Sheridan Ripley — May 21, 2008 @ 2:03 pm
mami - thanks, I’ll check it out when I’ve got a bit more time to peruse–looks interesting!
Comment by EmilyS — May 21, 2008 @ 2:20 pm
EmilyS - #4 - i don’t regret a single day that since i had reduction surgery. i was sad when i couldn’t nurse effectively (one breast made the smallest amount of milk and the first baby was losing weight dramatically and the other breast didn’t produce a single drop). but that was 20 years ago - i loved the bfar.org site mami sent - it looks great.
the most significant improvment was not just how other people treated me, but how my own self-perception was altered. even today, i feel good about my size and shape. of course, we’re all individuals and this is a decision you alone can make - but, i would endure the pain again for the positive outcome i experienced.
sisters and brothers - can you believe it’s already wednesday?! go out and make it a good one!
Comment by Mary Magdalene — May 21, 2008 @ 2:21 pm
I’m just gonna sit here and make some connections that have struck me:
we were at the Metallica concert last friday… and as everyone got bored waiting for the band to come on, women began to get up on the shoulders of guys and flash the crowd. this one women had some very beautiful breasts, (I don’t know if they were ‘enhanced’ or not, they looked just naturally lovely) and she was the crowd favorite (ya, there seemed to be a bit of a competition going back and forth). and she was even letting people touch her breasts.
which brought to mind the recent post about porn, which brought to mind an older post by c.l. hanson about objectification (which she linked to in the comments on the porn post)
okay… is this comment going anywhere? sorry if I am just rambling, I guess I am just still coming to terms with my breasts, and the fact that, I know that they would not be crowd pleasers, but that my husband loves them, and they did a fabulous job of feeding my son…
and I’ll shut up now.
Comment by G — May 21, 2008 @ 2:40 pm
Personally, I’m just glad mine are small and not in the way. I hit the genetic lotto in that regard because my mom’s side of the family are large-breasted women. God bless my dad’s flat chested side of the family.
Comment by Tanya S. — May 21, 2008 @ 3:04 pm
Breasts are awesome and I love mine. I didn’t always– I thought they were too saggy. I had lost about 25 pounds in my 20’s and that’s where the weight first went (how unfair is that?), so the excess skin made them droopy. I had implants a year ago and it was such a great decision. Breasts make “me” feel sexy and confident. While I’ve never given birth (adopted my daughter and am in the process of adopting another), I would be sad if the result of pregnancy would’ve only been to feed babies. My body is still mine, I hope, no matter what it’s done to produce little people. So, sans more children, you have your body back, your breasts are yours. That’s certainly a reason to celebrate them, right?
Comment by lulubelle — May 21, 2008 @ 3:26 pm
I’ll chime in as someone who values her breasts despite an inability to breastfeed. Then again, that was my immune system’s fault, since it seems to have made me both infertile and allergic to the drugs and herbs which help an adoptive mom lactate. Even so, those few short weeks I spent breastfeeding my son before I developed the oh-so-attractive hives and high temperature have given me a gift far greater than the teensy amount of breast milk I provided my little boy. The act itself–even with an lactaid strapped on–made me feel so womanly, so maternal, so connected to my baby and for the first time in a while, to my own body.
I hid my breasts and my hourglass shape in high school from the day I heard two boys commenting on my flattering outfit and how they’d like to, err, be intimate with me. Sadly I bought into the idea that I was causing them to sin, rather than holding them accountable for their own desires and seeing those desires themselves as healthy and normal. I mean, it’s not like they said anything to *me*. There wasn’t any harassment. But I can trace my comfort level with my body through photographs and the degree to which I hid my shape with baggy clothes.
My breasts cannot serve their primary physiological purpose, and I’m sad about that. But they nonetheless serve a key purpose in my psychological, sexual, and even spiritual life. Knowing that a site on my body has served as the locus of negative self-image and some negative attention (molestation about the time the little gals showed up) and now help me feel attractive and at peace with the mind/body connection reminds me that the other aspects of my body with which I still have conflicted relationships can be altered for good as well.
Comment by Janet — May 21, 2008 @ 3:37 pm
Elise #7–
Bow to my throne.
I have to say ladies, some of you sure aren’t sounding very feminist as view yourselves and your bodies as sex objects.
Comment by mami — May 21, 2008 @ 3:58 pm
MIne is a love/hate relationship with them. My husband loves them, and I hate them. Strong word but its the truth. I was unable to breastfeed so they are not functional in that capacity. Actually I only attempted with my second child … and to tell you the whole process repusles me. Secondly, they are huge. Which was fine when I was young and single, but now that I am chasing my 3 kids– they are beyond cumbersome. But what can you do?
Comment by ks — May 21, 2008 @ 4:08 pm
I love my breasts. They are an integral part of my entire physical/reproductive/erotic/sensual life. They had a great run providing nourishment, (3 kids, nursed for three years each) all the while also doing double duty as a delightful source of sexual stimulation with the help of my husband.
I remember several months ago on another LDS feminist blog, someone arguing that the breast/sexuality connection is a totally cultural construct, but…ummmm, I’m glad my breasts never knew that. My breasts (nipples in particular) have always been involved with feelings of sexual arousal…even as a very young person I was aware of the connection. I always assumed this was universal - that the combination of the practicality and pleasure of the genitals was also the dual nature of the female breasts.
Oh yeah, men seem to like them too…but when I think about breasts and sexuality, it’s my own sexual experience that I’m thinking about. The thought of losing my breasts….(shiver)…would be like losing my clitoris.
So no, I’m not keen on the idea of retiring the girls anytime soon. : )
Comment by I'll leave my name off this one. — May 21, 2008 @ 4:41 pm
I noticed that there are several people here who, for one reason or another, couldn’t breastfeed and felt bad about it - I was different to that because the thought of breastfeeding made me feel physically ill and still does. Don’t get me wrong; I’m aware it’s the real reason that we have breasts, but I found it impossible to reconcile the breast with the baby.
Then again, as Elise said, I hated the things my body did to me when I was pregnant - I’ll go as far as to say I hate being pregnant, much as I love my child and found the end result worth the horror (and I’m not putting words into her mouth there, that is just my experience). I wanted my body back. Which doesn’t explain the lingering disgust I guess, surely by now I should be viewing the experience through tinted spectacles?
I love my breasts. My ‘perfect’ body ideal would involve smaller breasts, but that doesn’t mean I dislike the ones I have. The only reason I would like a smaller cup is due to the ugly, ugly bras that one is subject to over a certain size.
As to ‘retiring’ the breasts, they can be retired as functioning body parts I guess, but why are they an embarrassment once we are beyond child bearing age? My breasts were a horror to me as a tomboy teen, but became something to be proud of once I matured. Just another part of my body, just like my legs or arms.
Breasts are like any other body part - we like them or we don’t. The only difference is that we mix those with a large part of both our sexuality and our ability to be a mother. There’s a lot more at stake than our ’short’ legs or ‘podgy’ bellies.
Comment by SS — May 21, 2008 @ 4:41 pm
Hmmm. My comment hasn’t shown up. Does all this talk of breasts anger the spam filter gods?
Comment by I'll leave my name off this one. — May 21, 2008 @ 5:00 pm
My breasts are so small, I should be wearing a bra smaller than aa. My 1/2 empty bra helps fill my clothes out so I feel normal. I’m glad they’re small though because I’m an active girl and would hate to have ‘em giggling all the time. They wouldn’t produce much milk for my first two boys, probably because I was such an anxious new mom. All of the babies gnawing made me raw, I hated them then. I didn’t even give breastfeeding a chance with the third baby.
I was so naive, I hardly new what the big deal about them was until I got married and my husband went crazy over them. I would not go under a knife for bigger ones, but I would experiment with an enhancing bra!
Comment by joule — May 21, 2008 @ 5:26 pm
I have to say ladies, some of you sure aren’t sounding very feminist as view yourselves and your bodies as sex objects.
I’m just sort of gaping in shock at this comment. Are feminism, sexuality, and body image to you really that un-nuanced? Like women can’t be feminists if they actually like the way their bodies contribute to their and their husband’s sexuality and pleasure? Sure, on an extreme can be objectification, but good grief. There has got to be some middle ground in there without being ready to take away someone’s feminist card.
Comment by m&m — May 21, 2008 @ 5:42 pm
m&m–
It is not that bodies can’t be sexual– it is the stream of comments talking about how breasts are so overtly sexual, and anything else, like breastfeeding is then found to be utterly disgusting. That’s when it is obviosus that bodies are being seen as objects.
Comment by mami — May 21, 2008 @ 5:49 pm
My breasts define me. They didn’t fail me when the other womanly parts of my body did. I have PCOS, don’t ovulate, and was never able to conceive. But our children, who joined our family through adoption, were nurtured and suckled at my breast. My breasts nourished them. And seeing that my body could do something so wonderful and womanly and beautiful gave me the self-esteem I’d lacked previously. It was very empowering to me. I’m now a breastfeeding counsellor and am going back to university to do a degree in midwifery. I owe my career to my breasts. They are almost the only thing about my body that I’m happy with.
Comment by Kerri — May 21, 2008 @ 5:51 pm
Ah, mami, thanks for the clarification. I was sort of baffled at that coming from you. I’m still not sure I would call it all objectification, at least not always, but I do agree that we ought not look at our bodies in such a unidirectional way. Thanks again for the response.
Comment by m&m — May 21, 2008 @ 5:59 pm
And I’m really sad for many of you who weren’t able to have a good breastfeeding experience. It is a loss like any other and should be mourned. What does it say about society that so many of us have body parts that don’t do what they were built for? Is it lack of support? Not enough understanding of how to build a breastfeeding relationship?
Not only do we NOT find a way to make them work (don’t tell me science couldn’t somehow figure a way if it had the financial support viagra got), but we remove tonsils and appendices if they’re causing problems or not doing their jobs, and we remove foreskins without even understanding what the function really is.
I guess I don’t know where I’m going. Just thoughts running through my head . . .
Comment by Kerri — May 21, 2008 @ 6:00 pm
i can’t believe it, m&m, but i completely agree with you.
Comment by chandelle — May 21, 2008 @ 6:05 pm
well, chandelle, life is full of surprises.
Comment by m&m — May 21, 2008 @ 6:07 pm
What does it say about society that so many of us have body parts that don’t do what they were built for? Is it lack of support? Not enough understanding of how to build a breastfeeding relationship?
I think some of it is that it says that life is hard and unfair. I agree that society has some things messed up, but not all of this is society’s fault. Sometimes our bodies don’t work and that’s just part of life.
Comment by m&m — May 21, 2008 @ 6:10 pm
And I don’t say that to minimize at all the struggles that people have because of this…just to point out that we shouldn’t expect society to be able to fix it all, and we ought to give support to those for whom it doesn’t work, not necessarily assert that it should all be fixable. Maybe it’s not all fixable, so how we can best help is to help each other rejoice in what we CAN do rather than focus on what we can’t.
Comment by m&m — May 21, 2008 @ 6:18 pm
What does it say about society that so many of us have body parts that don’t do what they were built for? Is it lack of support? Not enough understanding of how to build a breastfeeding relationship?
i’m a licensed lactation educator, i was a student homebirth midwife for three years, i’ve worked as a doula, and i have hours built toward an IBCLC. you won’t find many laypeople as educated as i am about breastfeeding. the issues you listed, and more, are common reasons for breastfeeding to fail. but they don’t apply to everyone. and because i know you have good intentions, i won’t assume this was your tone, but to me, considering the absolute HELL i went through trying to nurse my children, i cannot hear yet another woman ask in that condescending, assuming tone if it’s because i didn’t have support or understand how it worked, or if i gave up because i had a little common problem like a bad latch. i watched my daughter shrivel up and turn yellow when she could not nurse from an oral-motor dysfunction. she became very sick, lost almost half her weight, and i thought she might die. formula and donated breastmilk saved her life when i could no longer maintain a supply through pumping. it was because i had tremendous community support and the assistance of the best LLLLs and IBCLCs in the state that i was able to obtain donated breastmilk for her for over a year. it was not because i was uneducated, repelled by the practice or lacking in support. i lacked support with my first child, and i lacked some education and got all the wrong information when he had an oral aversion i could not break. so it’s true, those common reasons apply . . . commonly. but not always. and for the record, i fed my daughter at my breast throughout her first year of life; i was almost constantly skin-to-skin with her for at least the first six months. we had a beautiful breastfeeding relationship, regardless of what was going into her mouth.
again, i understand that you did not intend to be condescending or assuming. but i receive those judgments from the community so often that i cannot help but speak up to the truth that sometimes there are authentic reasons why women cannot (not do not, but cannot) breastfeed, and they transcend a little discomfort, bad information or condemning community. there is almost no support for women like me. society doesn’t understand why the failure bothers us so much, and the lactation/birthing community would rather pretend we don’t exist.
Comment by chandelle — May 21, 2008 @ 6:26 pm
my apologies for the threadjack; i don’t want this to descend into another battle about breastfeeding, so i won’t comment on that issue again. back to breasts!
Comment by chandelle — May 21, 2008 @ 6:28 pm
Chandelle—
You don’t know Kerri. She has wayyyy more experience than you do in lactation. For professional reasons, she is not touting herself online. You should just stop now. She did not point fingers–you are awfully defensive.
Comment by mami — May 21, 2008 @ 6:30 pm
And she sure as heck isn’t nearly as condemning as you are of her.
Comment by mami — May 21, 2008 @ 6:33 pm
SS, have you checked out Bare Necessities? It’s got great looking bras for very large sizes. And just bras for very large sizes, which was good for me because pregnancy and lactation literally put me off the charts. I ended up having to buy nursing bras in the next band size up (not from BN, but from a lactation store here in SLC that specializes in serious super-size cupped nursing bras). Anyway, there’s a good chance you can find a bra you like in your size there.
Comment by Artemis — May 21, 2008 @ 6:40 pm
i’m not condemning her. and i’m not saying that i’m as experienced as her; i definitely am not even comparing my experience level to hers; just saying that i’m not an inexperienced or uneducated moron in this issue. i’m actually not referring to kerri at all in my post; i used her post as a jumping off point to make the distinction between women who are uneducated and lack support and women who truly cannot nurse. and defensive? yep.
Comment by chandelle — May 21, 2008 @ 7:01 pm
Chandelle—
You directly contradicted yourself.
“ was because i had tremendous community support and the assistance of the best LLLLs and IBCLCs in the state that i was able to obtain donated breastmilk for her for over a year…
“the lactation/birthing community would rather pretend we don’t exist.”
How is getting pumped milk for you for a year pretending you don’t exist? Do you honestly think they would have done so if they thought you just weren’t trying hard enough?
Comment by mami — May 21, 2008 @ 7:08 pm
oh dear, i really hoped that it would be obvious that my comment was not really directed at kerri, but perhaps not. i actually share her sentiment: bewilderment at how such massive numbers of women can either fail at breastfeeding or refuse outright in our culture. i just really think a distinction needs to be made.
Comment by chandelle — May 21, 2008 @ 7:09 pm
Back pedaling, back pedaling.
Comment by mami — May 21, 2008 @ 7:13 pm
i’m not referring to the people i dealt with personally, who saw first-hand what my experience was like. i’m referring to the community at large, the assumptions that i receive when dealing with other doulas or midwives and, especially, LCs. i didn’t intend for this to become such an enormous threadjack. again, back to breasts!
Comment by chandelle — May 21, 2008 @ 7:14 pm
Speaking of breasts, utility, and helping others, has anyone else seen this amazing story:
http://www.straitstimes.com/Free/Story/STIStory_238842.html
Absolutely wonderful.
Comment by Kaimi — May 21, 2008 @ 7:42 pm
Currently Breastfeeding the sixth and final bebe. I agree that breasts don’t have to have dual and seperate roles. Sexuality and Function can work beautifully…
Comment by sofia — May 21, 2008 @ 7:45 pm
I don’t think Kerri was meaning to point any fingers at anyone. I thought she was saying that there are actual reasons why our bodies don’t work as effectively as they should and if we put as much time and money into “woman” issues as we do “men” issues, maybe breast-feeding would be more possible for more women. (The viagra example is great.)
Chandelle, I feel like I know some of you from all you previous posts, from what I can tell, I’m sure you gave breast-feeding your all and for whatever reason were physically unable. I’m no lactation expert, but you are definately the exception. Most women I know personally were very half-hearted about breast-feeding, and i think gave up too easily.
I’m lucky I never put much stock in my breasts. I like them. I like my whole body. It fits my personality. I’m very athletic, Depending on my mood, I see my whole body as sexual not just my breasts, but my whole body is functional too. I kind of feel that for bodies that’s one and the same. I’m also a very practical person and for me sexy is someone who takes out the garbage. To me, a sexy body is a hard-working body.
Comment by Melissa — May 21, 2008 @ 7:49 pm
Ok mami, if kerri won’t brag on her own behalf, will you brag for her? I owe what little bit of breast-feeding experience I accrued partially to kerri and I’d love her to get some more public shout-outs on whatever else she’s done. I only knew she’d successfully breastfed her adopted children and that she was incredibly supportive of my attempts. What say you? Can we give her a big ol’ public gold star for the other stuff?
And kerri, I still owe you a Thank You card. Inexcusable I know, but colic sort of ate my correspondence propriety. I AM thankful, though. Incredibly so.
(As for the LC community, my experiences were probably 80/20. Most LCs thought what I was doing was great but kindly told me not to beat myself up too badly if it didn’t work. Only one person insisted it would work if I would just try hard enough. I’m assuming that person was new at her job rather than malicious or anything.)
Comment by Janet — May 21, 2008 @ 7:51 pm
point of clarity: I agree that drug companies spend a ton on research into male sexual health, but viagra did NOT result from those efforts. It’s current primary use manifested itself as an intriguing side effect to, I believe, treatment for pulmonary hypertension.
I bet the first few hundred guys on the drug must have been veeeeeery surprised
Comment by Janet — May 21, 2008 @ 7:57 pm
Mami,
Let me ask you a question…. is your husband objectifying his penis becuase for him the only important function it really has is sexual (I’m sure peeing isn’t something he relishes).
Just because since my early years, my breasts are very very much a part of my sexual core doesn’t mean anything about society or lack of feminism. Like another poster, my chest is a huge aspect of foreplay.. it always has been even in my early makeout days (much to the bishop’s chagrin.) The thought of my breasts doing strange things to me and becoming a tool for a child kind of icks me out just like being pregnant kind of icks me out. You can call me selfish about my body (I readily admit I AM.) But to say I am objectifiying my breasts because they are part of my body that I alone want to own is a false assumption. That would be like saying that I am objectifying my uterus simply because I am struggling with the concept that I currently have a little alien - oh ok.. baby in it taking all my nutrients and forcing my body to change without my permission.
Please.. feel free to call me selfish about wanting to have completely control over my body, but not objectifying myself.
Comment by Elise — May 21, 2008 @ 7:57 pm
Melissa, ever stop to think that perhaps you are judging the other women too harshly? I know many, many women who could not breastfeed - and it’s not that they were lazy or didn’t try, their bodies physically could not produce the milk and their children were going hungry. You think they gave up way too easily; but maybe you don’t know. (And before you say, But other people in other cultures do it just fine - Just look at some of the statistics of infants who die of malnutrition. Obviously this isn’t just a first-world problem; sometimes breasts just don’t lactate.)
Comment by Quimby — May 21, 2008 @ 8:00 pm
To me, a sexy body is a hard-working body.
i love that! and completely agree.
Comment by chandelle — May 21, 2008 @ 8:00 pm
P.s. for the record.. I absolutely LOVE my children. They are a hoot and well worth the horror.
I’m a bellydancer and now that I have my studio finished in the basement as soon as this little one pops out I”m going to become acquainted with all my muscles I’ve been neglecting.
Comment by Elise — May 21, 2008 @ 8:02 pm
quimby, i agree. there seems to be a broad assumption that all women in third world countries nurse successfully, and it would seem that they are much more successful compared with the dismal statistics here in the western world. formula is an especially dangerous issue in many of those areas because poor parents will dilute it to make it stretch or make it with contaminated water. so breastfeeding might be even more important there. but what is often overlooked is that it’s not that third world women are so comfortable with their bodies and exposed to breastfeeding that they all breastfeed naturally with ease for four years or more. it’s just that if a woman in a third world country can’t nurse, somebody else will do it for her, either full-time or until she figures it out herself. that’s not a benefit that most westerners have.
Comment by chandelle — May 21, 2008 @ 8:06 pm
Quimby,
In other cultures they die from malnutrtion because they can’t lactate? Source? Because I can sure throw a bunch of studies at you to the contrary.
Janet-
For professional reasons, I won’t tout her either.:)
Elise-
Your comments here against the backdrop of your stance on p0rnography seriously discredit you. You enjoy and encourage material that objectifies the human body, and thus have so objectified you own breasts that you psychologically are unable to breastfeed your own child. Pretty sad really.
We will have to agree to disagree–with all those comments you’ve made on both threads, I cannot take you seriously.
Comment by mami — May 21, 2008 @ 8:11 pm
Mami, you and I both know that infants are very limited in what they can eat. Therefore it stands to reason that if an infant has died of malnutrition, it’s because they aren’t getting breast milk or formula. Since formula is not widely available in the developing world, it stands to reason that if an infant dies of malnutrition in the third world, it’s because they aren’t getting breast milk. Why wouldn’t a child be getting breastfed? Generally speaking it wouldn’t be because the parents are just callous and uncaring; it would be because there is a problem with lactation. That problem might be organic in nature (eg the mother can’t produce milk) or it might be because of some outside factor (eg the mother is malnourished). But for whatever cause, if you look at infant mortality statistics, they are MUCH higher in the developing world than in the developed world, and a significant proportion of that is because of malnutrition.
Comment by Quimby — May 21, 2008 @ 8:19 pm
Wow Mami,
Pretty harsh. As I have always stated, my opinions on some types of P0rn is that it can benefit a marriage by educating (esp. my hubby) on new ideas and getting over issues from his very strict past. I certainly don’t think there is a dichotomy there between my stance that not all p0rn is degrading (like how-to stuff) and my stance that my body is my own to do with as I choose. The fact that I have nipples and clitoris that have nerves does make them sexual, as another poster wrote also… it in no way means that I am objectifying myself as a sex object.
That would be like saying that any man who views his penis as a part of his complete sexual identity is treating himself as a sex-object.
I’d really like you to explain exactly how my particular stance on p0rn discredits my opinion that my breasts are a part of me for me… I don’t think if you actually read what I’ve written you’ll find any such contradiction.
Comment by Elise — May 21, 2008 @ 8:22 pm
Quimby-
Generally speaking, in third world countries, women hand the baby to another woman to feed if they can’t (eg. see Kaimi’s link.)If all the women in the community are SEVERELY under nourished, then they do, of course, die of malnutrition.
Comment by mami — May 21, 2008 @ 8:23 pm
Also, because of evolution, women in third world countries are much less likely to have lactation problems (so the theory goes.)
Comment by mami — May 21, 2008 @ 8:24 pm
kwashiorkor mami. It translates, I believe, to “rejected one” and refers to the older child that is displaced by the new baby, and, hence, starves. It also counts for those mothers who cannot breastfeed, and so their babies die of malnutrition. We live in an amazing, abundant world, It’s an anomoly. Our world–not that of woman whose breasts don’t work properly and so they either find a different source of breast milk or lose their children. My ex Mother-in-law couldn’t nurse. Her first child almost starved to death before it was figured out. This still happens in the US,though not so frequently.
Comment by djinn — May 21, 2008 @ 8:25 pm
Mami, my point was: Many women can’t breastfeed. You just admitted as much with your #56.
Comment by Quimby — May 21, 2008 @ 8:25 pm
I just get so tired of breast nazis saying that every woman can breastfeed and if you’ve failed at breastfeeding it’s because you didn’t try hard enough. You just don’t know individual circumstances enough to make that call. Not every woman can breastfeed. It really is as simple as that.
Comment by Quimby — May 21, 2008 @ 8:27 pm
Mami, I didn’t see your evolution comment; all I can say is “huh?” I’m really not trying to be dismissive, but evolution doesn’t work quite like that. For example, the modern world as we know it has not existed long enough for it to differentiate “us” (in the first world) from “them” (in the third.)
You also seem to not understand the huge numbers of children, until recent times, who have not made it to adulthood.
Comment by djinn — May 21, 2008 @ 8:28 pm
Mami wrote: “and thus have so objectified you own breasts that you psychologically are unable to breastfeed your own child. Pretty sad really.”
I find it incredible that you assume so much and are so condescending about what you think my ‘issues’ are. I must have objectified my uterus too because I’m psychologically struggling with pregnancy. I much have objectified EVERY part of my body, my dang swollen ankles, especially because I’m hating them right now and hating being pregnant. The thought of a baby sucking on my swollen hurting breast bothers me… not for sexual reasons but because I want my body back to being just for me. Geesh…
The worst part is… if I told you what the lactation consultant told me in the hospital, you’d be all ‘ooh Elise, don’t beat yourself up about it, not all women can do it etc. etc.’… but because I only told you one reason - the psychological one, you feel justified to judge my decision to not keep going on with breastfeeding.
Comment by Elise — May 21, 2008 @ 8:31 pm
Oh, and while I’m railing on you (in the kindest and most insincere way) I should point out that there seems to be an inverse correlation between Pornography (threadjack!) and crimes against women. That is, those countries with the most pron also have proportionally fewer rapes, etc. This certainly holds true for Japan and Scandinavia, and bizzarely enough, Iowa. I’m just putting this out as evidence. I have no idea why.
Comment by djinn — May 21, 2008 @ 8:31 pm
Wait, there’s a theory arguing for first world breast failure as an effect of evolution? Really? Interesting if depressing. It seems like the first world hasn’t even existed long enough for such a thing to happen. Sigh.
What do the kids in 3rd world places do who are intolerant of breastmilk and whose mothers have no access to formula? The women on my mission sometimes fed their babies weak tea, but that seems calorically deficient.
Comment by Janet — May 21, 2008 @ 8:33 pm
Janet, my brother-in-law’s partner was born in Germany at the end of WWII and kept alive on carrot juice. To this day he refuses to touch a carrot. But his mother couldn’t breastfeed, and carrots were the only thing in abundance, so it was carrot juice or nothing.
But the evolutionary argument just seems bull to me. Technically speaking the developed world is a product of the Industrial Revolution and evolution on that scale just wouldn’t happen that quickly.
Comment by Quimby — May 21, 2008 @ 8:37 pm
the link won’t open for me, so i’m not sure where it goes, but kwashiorkor refers to severe malnutrition based almost certainly on protein deficiency. so i’m not sure exactly what you mean by a child being cast aside for the younger one to be fed; though i suppose it might translate that way, clinically it refers to protein deficiency. ???
Comment by chandelle — May 21, 2008 @ 8:40 pm
Since this is about breasts and breastfeeding, perhaps I should interject some science. It turns out that the exact very same hormone, oxytocin that causes the letdown reflex (you know, the feeling that your breasts are being sqeezed) also makes us (and voles) want to cuddle, fall in love, and be more trusting. It also is secreted when a woman nurses. It’s also implicated, though less clearly, in the sexual response. So, nursing is complicated. I suspect that women who have some sort of sexualish response when nursing may be repelled; I personally feel that those actions we need to do (nursing babies counts) are supposed to be pleasurable.
Comment by djinn — May 21, 2008 @ 8:46 pm
intolerance to breastmilk is extremely rare. generally, it would seem that the reason kids wouldn’t be breastfed in those places is because of lactation dysfunction and, sadly, advertising from formula manufacturers. i’m sure that a baby could not survive very well, if at all, on weak tea as the sole source of caloric intake; there’s no fat or protein in tea, very few calories, not to mention, well, pretty much no vitamins or minerals at all. i suppose it might carry a baby until they start receiving solids at a very young age; some parents still start solids around six weeks old. animal milk is probably common as well.
Comment by chandelle — May 21, 2008 @ 8:48 pm
djinn– oh yeah. how I mised my oxytocin when I stopped breastfeeding. It was sad sad sad. I want me some more. (So, by the way, does my husband. A wife that’s been on fertility drugs for 5 years and then switches to lactation drugs can undergo quite a pleasant bit of personality amelioration. Temper turns to snuggles.)
Comment by Janet — May 21, 2008 @ 8:49 pm
When babies are spaced too close together and when the family is living at the edge of starvation, the displaced baby stops drinking breast milk, with the result that that baby may become malnourished, because the milk was its main source of protein.
Comment by djinn — May 21, 2008 @ 8:50 pm
djinn,
I don’t see how that is a cause from not nursing a baby–it is still a malnourishment issue. Children in 3rd world countries don’t wean until they are sometimes 7. The average is around 4. They are still able to eat developmentally, but lack of food prevents it. Breastfeeding has been protecting them. The picture in the Wiki article you linked shows older children. They are some who the article mentions weaned, no?
Quimby,
I never said some women cannot breastfeed. That_is_a_given!
Evolution. In third world countries women who can’t breastfeed (and assuming it is genetic, which it often would be) would fail to have surviving offspring because they would starve to death. Therefore less offspring would survive to carry the physical predisposition to not be able to feed their babies (lacking alternative feeding methods). Women who are able to feed their babies would have more children who grow up and carry the genetic ability to better feed their infants.
In western countries where there are alternative feeding methods, babies will survive either way (although non-breastfed infants still have an increased 25% risk of dying in western countries than their breastfed counterparts). Thus if a mother cannot breastfeed for genetic physical reasons, and her children also have this genetic predisposition, their babies will grow up and perhaps not be able to feed also. In the US, primary lactation failure is on the rise. Much of this is due to the fact that women who can’t concieve, often can’t lactate (eg. sometimes with pcos disease). Now that they are able to concieve and have children with new reproductive technologies, we see more women who can’t lactate. PCOS can be genetic, and so we will see a continuing rise in the population of both infertility and failure to lactate.
Good old Natural Selection!
Comment by mami — May 21, 2008 @ 8:51 pm
As one who reads here inconsistently, and comments very rarely, I am really struck by the meanness of many of the comments in this thread. What is it about breasts that causes such uncivil discourse? Is it the polarizing nature of sex? Of motherhood? Is it because individual identity so intertwined with appearance or functioning of breasts?
Comment by Kari — May 21, 2008 @ 8:51 pm
djinn-
Babies in third world countries aren’t usually “too close together”. They practice ecological breastfeeding, it usually naturally spaces babies.
Comment by mami — May 21, 2008 @ 8:54 pm
i see what you mean and i got the link open; thanks.
tandem nursing is pretty common in places where breastmilk is the only source of nutrition for children. but i have no idea what that must be like, for a woman who hardly eats herself to have two (or more!) children taking nutrition from her. that thought makes me want to scream. what sadness.
hey! this is not related to the breast thing, but has anybody heard of the mission council to the UN on spirulina as a potential answer to the world’s hunger problem? now, i believe that the real problem with food is not a lack of abundance but a lack of democracy (per frances lappe) but i found it very interesting anyway.
Comment by chandelle — May 21, 2008 @ 8:57 pm
I’m afraid this sounds good, but the evidence doesn’t bear it out, mami. I read a monograph on spacing of babies in Thailand and Vietnam a few years ago; the mothers all breast fed. Basically, it worked for some of them, others, not so much. Actually, this gets into some of the deeply disturbing parts of studying Anthropology.
Comment by djinn — May 21, 2008 @ 8:59 pm
My breasts and I don’t always get along, but I love them.
My breastfeeding experience was completely, thoroughly miserable. I did not have a good support system, received conflicting advice, and was suffering from severe post-partum depression. Yet they still managed to produce milk, and I found a way to keep it going into my son any way possible for 6 full months before I dried up. I am grateful for that six months. Had I not been so dang stubborn, I would have missed out on the one true bonding experience I was able to have with my son in the midst of PPD that I almost lost my life to.
I have battled breast cancer - twice. I am not even thirty yet. My breasts are scarred from lumpectomies, but they are beautiful. Gorgeous, in fact. Each scar says that I am ALIVE.
After 6 months of nursing, they are still pretty darn perky. I have stretch marks that have faded into almost nothing, and they sag just a wee bit, but now that I’ve lost weight a pencil won’t stay beneath them, and I’m a D cup! Yippee for exercise!
For a long time I hated my breasts because thanks to some of my surgeries I don’t have much sensation or reaction in my nipples anymore. I always worried that DH would wonder what was wrong with me or assume I’m not turned on, but I still very much love to be touched. He was also curious with regard to breastfeeding and even though I wouldn’t try a sample of my own goods, he did. He’s never looked at my breasts the same way since. Before that he would look at them more lasciviously, now it’s more a look of wonder and respect.
I go out of my way to buy bras that show them off - but for myself, not DH. I’m lucky to have them. My oncologist wanted me to have a double mastectomy to “make things easier”, but I LOVE MY BODY. And I have faith that no matter what happens to it, I will fight to keep my temple whole, and I will win the battle. I admire my body for all it has lived through. When I undress at night, I look in the mirror and I’m pretty darn proud of what I see. Every imperfection is my life as I have lived it, and I love them all.
I should really be anon for this, but I already am anon, so what the heck. I’m re-reading this and I don’t feel ashamed of any of it. Wonder why I still feel like I should hide? To protect other’s sensibilities? Dunno. Hmm. Oh well, I am who I am. *shrug*
Comment by Jill — May 21, 2008 @ 9:00 pm
http://www.obgyn.net/displayarticle.asp?page=/pcos/articles/childers-chats
Comment by Quimby — May 21, 2008 @ 9:00 pm
djinn
Could you please refer me to the data you are looking at?
Of course you are correct, it doesn’t always work that way.
Comment by mami — May 21, 2008 @ 9:00 pm
ecological breastfeeding as birth control depends on a wide variety of factors that may not be ideal for all women in third world countries who practice it by default. lots of babies are conceived while mothers think they are defended by EB. everything else you said, i think were very salient points, though i disagree with your characterizations of these phenomena as indicative of practically instantaneous (relatively speaking) evolution.
Comment by chandelle — May 21, 2008 @ 9:03 pm
Quimby,
Coud you explain why you posted that? I said some women with PCOS could not lactate. It may be the minority, but it will affect the population.
Comment by mami — May 21, 2008 @ 9:04 pm
kari– I think it’s partly because breastfeeding has been such an emotionally loaded area for many of us. Those of us who try and fail usually feel awful and guilty even when we know we’ve tried our best, and so we get defensive. Those who never try get defensive because a deeply personal decision earns them castigation in the absence of understanding. Those who are trained BFing educators feel the passion any of us feel for the causes for which we’ve become activists. It’s incredibly . . . fraught.
And I’ve noticed that really any topic about parenting choices accrues more defensive and militant comments. People misread because their emotions get in the way of offering others the benefit of the doubt if a text can reasonably be read in another manner. People don’t apologize. BTW, I’m saying this as somebody who completely stinking lost every iota of her cool when somebody on ZD suggested formula should be available on a prescription-only basis. Total meltdown. Not pretty.
Comment by Janet — May 21, 2008 @ 9:05 pm
Wow, I just stepped into the middle of a poop storm.
*goes back to work*
Comment by Jill — May 21, 2008 @ 9:05 pm
Chandelle,
I’m no sure if that was @ me or not, I don’t see how that hypothesis is instantaneous.
Comment by mami — May 21, 2008 @ 9:06 pm
beautiful, jill.
Comment by chandelle — May 21, 2008 @ 9:07 pm
Mami, we were posting at the same time. FWIW if you google “lactation failure” you get a whole lot of case studies but unfortunately many link to articles you have to pay for and I’m just too cheap.
But your evolutionary argument doesn’t hold up, Mami. Not only does it not make a great deal of sense on a practical level (most infertility can’t be genetic or we wouldn’t have infertility right?) it also assumes a too-fast rate of evolution that is not realistic in the real world for anything other than a species that reproduces at a very fast rate (eg, since the Industrial Revolution, we have seen changes in some insect behaviors - moths turn grey and back to white - but that is because there are many, many generations of moths for every generation of human).
BTW, at least one study I found said that the studies that show increased infant mortality in non-breast-fed babies are based on flawed methodology. Unfortunately it was another one of those pay-to-read articles so that’s all I could get from the abstract.
Comment by Quimby — May 21, 2008 @ 9:09 pm
somebody who completely stinking lost every iota of her cool when somebody on ZD suggested formula should be available on a prescription-only basis.
ahh . . . i remember that one. i don’t remember if i commented, but i probably did. as someone who is both low-income and without insurance . . . uh uh. not going there.
Comment by chandelle — May 21, 2008 @ 9:10 pm
mami, i said “relatively speaking” because what you are referring to IS essentially instant evolution, in evolutionary terms, and that’s not really how evolution works.
Comment by chandelle — May 21, 2008 @ 9:12 pm
Quimby–
I know what you mean about accessing studies. I have access to the professional lactation journals. So I can look at them, but I can’t prove to you what I’m reading. So let’s drop the the matter. Deal?
I never said “most infertiltiy”, I said some. Qualifiers do matter.
I did not come up with the evolution theory on my own. This is pretty widely accepted. Insects changing colors are completely different from babies starving to death. Natural selection doesn’t always take a very long time. Besides, in this example it has been happening for hundreds of years, not a few decades.
Comment by mami — May 21, 2008 @ 9:19 pm
absolutely loved this post! It is very relevant to me, and to my mother, as both of us are the sort of women who enjoyed developing real cleavage when we became nursing mothers. My mom is done with all hers now, and has felt self-conscious about her lack of chest. I know this will happen to me, too.
I know I’m going to struggle with the retiring of these appendages, partly because I know it will mean I’ll have nuthin there. I know my husband will still find me attractive, but I might struggle with finding myself attractive.
Comment by sare — May 21, 2008 @ 9:21 pm
My body is pretty dang great, sex, utilities, and all; but when I am nursing, I am crazy. I get neurotically uptight about the milk (if I have to pump, EVERY DROP must be saved!!!!!!), and I hate the pain of the getting-used-to-it phase (attention breast-police: yes I did too do it right, and it still hurts for the first weeks). The body-knowledge that baby is hungry seeps into the milk ducts with my lactation, in the form of heightened, loony feelings of need and mother-tiger style ferocity that says Get Me to My Baby Before I Kill Something. Then once the latch-on and the let-down and the moment of tension breaking, ahhh, here we goyesIamagoddessthankyounowleaveusALONE–I think nursing is fab. But way, way too intense for me to do it again after all the babies I have (youngest now five). I don’t think retiring that breast function is a bad idea for me, at all. Dh thinks the sisters still look great, and I *know* they do. They did that, been there, still doing what they need to do now!
Comment by hmm — May 21, 2008 @ 9:25 pm
Mami, you could always C&P from the journals. But FWIW I would care very much to know the overall tone of the lactation journal. If it’s along the lines of, Using formula is tantamount to child abuse - something I have read on this very blog more than once - I’m going to discount it, because frankly, letting a baby starve to death is much, much worse than using formula.
I would like to know some sources for the evolutionary argument, because it just plain doesn’t make sense to me. The industrial revolution was late 18th/early 19th century and that’s not enough time for that sort of change to take place.
Comment by Quimby — May 21, 2008 @ 9:26 pm
See, with this, you seem to be contradicting yourself again. I really don’t want to start a fight, but you got all up in arms when I made pretty much this exact point. If you don’t buy it when I’m using it, you really can’t use it yourself to prove your point.
Comment by Quimby — May 21, 2008 @ 9:28 pm
Quimby,
Cambridge World History of Food vol 1 and 2 for a history of feeding practices that predate the industrial revolution. Look up “milk”. I would argue that is enough time.
Quimby-
I have absolutely no desire to say formula is tantamount to child abuse or find a study that does. That was never my intention. This argument never started as me trying (or anyone else) saying formula feeding was bad. Lets drop it. Or are you going for hair on fire #3?
Comment by mami — May 21, 2008 @ 9:34 pm
What the?
Mami, I am responding to specific things you have said in your posts which don’t add up. Many of your comments - not just to me but to other posters - have been most dismissive and at times insulting of women who use alternatives to breast milk. You do not know individual circumstances.
You were quite defensive about a statement I made earlier and then used almost exactly the same statement to argue a point which still does not make a great deal of sense. If we are going to agree that infant mortality is not due to lactation failure (which isn’t a position I agree with, but is a position you hold judging by your challenging me in making the statement) your entire evolution argument falls into a steaming heap. You want me to drop it? Fine. But find another way to defend your evolution argument.
Comment by Quimby — May 21, 2008 @ 9:43 pm
I did a quick survey of the “ecological breastfeeding” literature, and as far as I can tell, it only works for six months. Then, all the articles are full of phrases like “prior to the mother’s first period.” Plus, there is between a 3 and 15% failure even within the 6 month time period with “ecological breastfeeding.” I have known two women in the last few years who got instantly pregnant (one with twins) (like within two months of their previous birth) even though they were breastfeeding exclusively. The monograph I referred to earlier does not appear to be available on the web right now, the other studies are not so rigorous….
Let’s talk about something funner! (Or at least, more embarrasing for myself.) I loved my breasts when I was pre-child. Perky 32 D’s. After I quit nursing after two years (and it was extremely difficult for baby and me, but nursing totally totally tottaly tanked any desire I might have felt for my husband, anyone else have this symptom?) my breasts totally deflated–two empty baggies lying unattractivelly next to my ribcage. Yuck. They plumped up. New baby, flat, plump, new baby, flat, now plumpish again. Love hate, totally.
Comment by djinn — May 21, 2008 @ 9:44 pm
Oh, speaking of feeding practices that predate the industrial revolution, wealthier women often engaged a wet nurse to feed their children. The disturbing question is, of course, what happened to the wet nurse’s kid? For such answers, it may be useful to read more deeply into the literature. I suggest Sarah Blaffer Hrdy, “Mother Nature: A history of mothers, infants and Natural Selection.”
Comment by djinn — May 21, 2008 @ 9:51 pm
djinn-
It is only 98% effective for the first 6 months. Of course it is not full proof.!I never said that. In a small sample (less than n=100)study done of ecological breastfeeders in the US, the average time of return to menses was 13 months.
For me, it takes more than 24 months!
Qumiby,
I’m really sorry, I wasn’t trying to insult you in the last comment. I have not insulted anyone for not breastfeeding, unless you are referring to yes, my terrible remark to Elise that she views her breasts as solely sexual and cannot breastfeed for that reason. I have NOT said anything insulting to anyone else for using formula, nor would I. IF I did, please point it out so I can apologize.
I’m just not sure what study you want. Are you trying to get me to find a study that shows kids don’t die from lactation failure in third world countries? I’m not sure I can. There would have to first be a hypothesis amongst researchers that that was a main cause. You can try this page.
Look, I don’t care if you disagree about the evolution argument. I was just putting it out there as one of the discussed theories amongst lactation researchers. I’m not trying to prove to you that I’m right. We will have to agree to disagree.
Comment by mami — May 21, 2008 @ 10:06 pm
djinn-
That is covered in Cambridge. Usually it was not the wet nurse’s kid that didn’t fair so well. It was the noble woman’s.
Comment by mami — May 21, 2008 @ 10:07 pm
Heh. Shelah can consider herself a veteran permablogger now that she will have weathered one of the infamous FMH breastfeeding debates. We couldn’t have found a better “hazing” if we’d tried to devise one.
I do wind up learning lot on these threads though!
Comment by Janet — May 21, 2008 @ 10:14 pm
I guess what I’m saying, not well enough obviously, is that we wouldn’t just accept that something like 30% of people didn’t have the full function of their eyes or another organ that belongs to both sexes. There would be major research. It would be a health crisis. But somehow we just accept that so many women have failing breasts, and that’s bizarre.
True lactation failure does occur, and it’s occuring more and more. Why is this? If more doctors and scientists considered breastfeeding as the normal way to feed babies, rather than an alternative to the more common formula-feeding, we might see some changes. I don’t know. It’s such a touchy and personal topic. Believe me, I know. It really hurts to hear that breastfeeding is so very important when you haven’t had a good experience. We all take everything personally.
But we need real research from people who believe in breastfeeding. Not from drug companies who are trying to imitate human milk or pump companies trying to sell more pumps, or whoever else might have a conflict of interest. It’s a public health issue if this many people can’t breastfeed. It costs governments and insurance companies millions of dollars in increased health-care costs. It’s an environmental problem that this many babes are on commercial formula, from thousands of cans and plastic containers.
Comment by Kerri — May 21, 2008 @ 10:17 pm
kerri, i agree with you 100%, especially on this:
If more doctors and scientists considered breastfeeding as the normal way to feed babies, rather than an alternative to the more common formula-feeding, we might see some changes.
it’s taken so long for breastfeeding babies to be treated as normal against skewed growth charts based on formula-fed babies; it’s depressing to consider how long it will take other important areas of infant feeding to be addressed from a breastfeeding position. the issue of public health is especially important to me.
Comment by chandelle — May 21, 2008 @ 10:22 pm
Okay, too much going on in this thread for me to step into, so I’ll just point you all to some other interesting resources. So, has anyone seen the website called Shape of a Mother? Do a google search, it’s really interesting. Although, there is nudity, so if that’s a problem for you, skip it.
Also, there is a documentary called Breasts that is amazingly fantastic. A lot of food for thought. Again, nudity involved.
Instead of jumping into the firestorm of comments, I will just say how I feel about my breasts. I don’t love them or hate them. They aren’t perky, never were. They have flucuated a lot in the last four years with having two babies. The are floppy and have lots of stretch marks. They can be annoying and in the way since they are a bit large. My husband (a self-proclaimed boob man) loves them. Before I was married and when I was not so concerned with modesty, they were the part of my body that made me feel the most sexy, especially since I am overweight and very self-conscious of most of my body. The have fed my son for almost 2 years, and are now nourishing my daughter and hopefully will be until we are both ready to be done. For me, they are definitely dual-function, feeding and sexual. They are still part of our foreplay, even though I am actively breastfeeding. Sometimes my breasts leak a little bit during sex, especially in the beginning of breastfeeding, which used to freak me out and no longer is a big deal. I don’t think I’ll ever want to retire them because they are a large part of our sex life. Also because they are a part of me, a part of my body, this body that God gave me, a part of who I am as a woman, a wife, a lover, a mother, and a feminist. The more I write about them, the more I realize that I do love them.
Comment by sweetpea — May 21, 2008 @ 10:34 pm
Great point, Kerri. Bit of threadjack here, but this idea could lead to another post: money spent on research about men’s health vs. reearch about women’s health. How much money is spent on drugs like Viagra (not just the research, but the marketing, too)? What do women get? Birth control. Maybe we should spend a bit more on research for birth control for men and research on things like Viagra (or breastfeeding!) for women. I’m just saying.
(Why in the world did I make this comment? I think I’m ticked at Jason on the p*rn thread and feeling rather “misandric”).
Comment by Stephanie — May 21, 2008 @ 10:44 pm
This entire series of posts stems from this:
I read that - perhaps wrongly - as you either saying that women in the developing world do not have lactation failure; or alternatively as you saying that infants do not die from malnutrition. As you said in #89, qualifiers matter. I did not say that lactation failure was a leading cause of infant mortality in the developing world (that’s pneumonia, followed by dehydration); only that it was a cause of infant mortality in the developing world. It isn’t possible to mount an argument against either of my interpretations of your statement. So. It would appear that I probably misinterpreted your comment.
As Kerri says, this is a touchy and personal topic. I have one sister who was able to breastfeed; myself, two of my sisters, and my mother were not. Statistically that is very high; but then we are also out of kilter when it comes to needing birthing intervention, and we are also out of kilter when it comes to hip displacia. (Although hip displacia is genetic, it is not supposed to be as high as 3 in 5.) When my one sister who was able to breastfeed ran into a relatively minor problem - a blockage - she asked me, and I advised her to ask someone who had more luck with it than I did. She asked a friend of hers who had breast fed five children. The friend was absolutely gobsmacked and had never even heard of a blockage. I find that so often with armchair breastfeeding advocates - they have had no problems and just assume that everyone else can do it as easily as they can; hence, if you don’t breastfeed, you are obviously a very selfish woman who just doesn’t care about her children. (I’m not saying that is your position. Just that it’s pretty much the first place my mind goes when I read armchair breastfeeding advocates, because it’s the most common position I find amongst them.)
Funnily enough my sister’s friend’s mother works for a formula company and is absolutely disgusted that her daughter breastfeeds, which works out well for my sister, who supplements with formula for the last feeding of the day - the friend’s mother inundates her with formula samples and she passes them all on to my sister. Ah, for a friend whose mother worked in the formula industry! Even though my “baby” is on to cow’s milk she still prefers formula at times - although she is very picky and will only drink one type of formula - of course she is equally picky with cow’s milk and rejected every one we tried in the US. Now that was a tough two weeks. She hated every brand of formula and every brand of cow’s milk.
Comment by Quimby — May 21, 2008 @ 10:49 pm
Stephanie, you would have to remove money spent on breast cancer research or it would skew dramatically. Last I knew breast cancer research was the most heavily funded of any cancer research.
Comment by Quimby — May 21, 2008 @ 10:50 pm
leading cause of infant mortality in the developing world (that’s pneumonia, followed by dehydration)
for infants, wouldn’t dehydration correlate to problems with lactation?
Comment by chandelle — May 21, 2008 @ 10:54 pm
Chandelle - Sometimes, but often dehydration is caused by diarrhea. With diarrhea, generally breast milk is not as effective as other solutions at “fixing” the dehydration, though of course breast milk is better than many other alternatives (eg, nothing at all, dirty water, chicken broth).
Comment by Quimby — May 21, 2008 @ 10:58 pm
I guess evolutionarily speaking, we’re not supposed to live for decades after our breasts have lost their function. On the other hand, I think the real problem is that our society is so fixated on false meanings of breasts. It shouldn’t be such a mind-bender to wrap our minds around breasts as sexual both in terms of intercourse and feeding babies.
Comment by angela michelle — May 21, 2008 @ 11:04 pm
oh, you’re right, quimby, i’m sorry. brain lapse.
Comment by chandelle — May 21, 2008 @ 11:23 pm
Wow, first of all, Jill #77, you are my HERO! Your post was beautiful and inspiring.
I know I am late coming into this, but I have a lot to say about my breasts, so here goes….
They are small. Oh, so small. When I was pretty sure I was finished with puberty, but still a teenager, I used to wish on shooting stars and pray that I would get bigger breasts. Well, that didn’t happen until I had children. And then……theyshrunkbacktosmallerthantheystartedout.
I got soooo many stretch marks on my breasts during my first pregnancy. My LC even commented on it. Mortifying.
I had a very difficult time nursing my 1st baby. He had jaundice (not sever enough to go under the bili lights, but just under that level) so nursing was very difficult for him, as he was so sleepy all the time. We had to scratch at his feet and pinch him to get him to wake up. It was the most difficult thing I have ever had to do up to that point, to see him cry out in pain, just so he could wake up to eat. In hindsight, I really should have insisted that he go back to the hospital and be put under the bili lights to help with his jaundice, but I was only 20 years old. I felt like everything every nurse and doctor was telling me had to be right. It was very hard.
Add to that the struggle of having inverted nipples, which I didn’t even know I had until I tried to breastfeed and it didn’t work. My baby just could not latch on, and since he was so tired anyway, well…it took every ounce of courage and commitment I had to keep breastfeeding him. I pumped (although I just barely responded enough to that to make it work) and fed him through a tube next to our finger. He got better, and I used breat sheilds and silicone things (sorry, I forget what they are called) to help draw my nipples out, and eventaully (after about two months) he learned to nurse! My nipples were no longer inverted and so my second baby nursed right away with absolutely no problems at all. It was a struggle, having to wake up so often at the beginning, trying to get him to eat, worrying that he was going to get sicker and we wouldn’t know it until it was too late…the days and nights seemed to run together and I was a mess. I never knew what time it was. I couldn’t remeber what meal I was suppossed to be eating, or if I had showered or brushed my teeth that day….
About six months into nursing, baby got thrush VERY badly, and so did I. Nurses said to stop feeding him, or he wouldn’t get better. I refused. We just pushed past several infections, took antibiotics, and I got mastitis twice along the way. It was worth it, but also very difficult.
The funny thing is, that 1st baby is still a really picky eater
I have always felt strange nursing and having my breasts be sexual at the same time. When I am nursing, my hubby loves my breasts, but I would rather they be off limits, and sometimes they are. Same with when I’m pregnant. Stimulation causes contractions for me very easily, so it’s doctor’s orders that they are off limits after the thrid trimester.
Whenever I had the Let down while I was nursing, I also felt sort of the same feeling that I have in my upper chest area (lungs, throat, and neck) that I have when I orgasm. I have always wondered if anyone else has this feeling. I’m guessing it’s that whole oxytocin thing. This makes breastfeeding verge a little too closely on the lines of sexualtiy for me, but I just keep my mind on the baby and the purpose of that feeling, and it usually didn’t bother me too much. Only when it happened in public, it was difficult for me to conceal the obvious reaction my body had (blushing, slightly heavier than normal breathing for about 10 seconds).
I sometimes miss breatfeeding, as I don’t think we are having more children, but I had a good run at it, and I loved doing it while I could. I am at peace with my small, stretchmarked breasts. Do I still wish they were bigger? Yes, but not on shooting stars anymore. Just silently to myself when I wear lingerie.
Comment by mellocello — May 21, 2008 @ 11:54 pm
That should say “nurses said to quit *breastfeeding* him or he wouldn’t get better.” They might have not known totally what they were talking about…I’m not sure….but they for sure weren’t as bad as that typo made them sound!
Comment by mellocello — May 22, 2008 @ 12:03 am
Quimby,
Gotcha! I wasn’t saying either of those things. Yes, some women do have lactation failure in 3rd world countries (as they do everywhere), and yes children die of malnutrition. So we agree!
Comment by mami — May 22, 2008 @ 12:20 am
mellocello,
It’s interesting that you said the nurses told you to stop nursing. I’ve actually found a lot of discouragement of breastfeeding from nurses and the medical establishment. When my son was in the hospital for his liver disease, the nurses acted put out about him nursing. They even called me the “booby mommy” behind my back (his doctor told me). Nurses like to chart and nursing is hard to chart. They are also working moms (if they have kids) and may favor formula themselves. This may not be true anymore (this was nine years ago), but it was then at PCMC. Good for you for keeping up with it. I truly attribute my son’s good health in part to his nursing for as long as possible.
Comment by sofia — May 22, 2008 @ 12:13 pm
thanks sofia,
I am not sure whether the nurses I talked to were pro-formula or something. I think that what they told me may have been standard protocol when a baby and mother have thrush that won’t seem to go away. The doctor actually told me the same thing, but didn’t pressure me quite as much. I think that for most people with a baby six months old, it might have been okay to stop nursing for awhile, just until both mama and baby healed, but for us: well, I was just so happy that my baby and my body finally started working well together, that I wasn’t about to jeopordize that for anything.
As far as good health for my kids though…it seems like they are always sick and it’s been that way since they were little. Oh well. Nursing was still a great experience that I am really thankful for, even if it didn’t make my kids uber healthy like I know it does for a lot of moms.
Comment by mellocello — May 22, 2008 @ 12:40 pm
Just as a total side comment to Sofia #114, when I was at PCMC 18 months ago, breastfeeding was definitely in favor–there are little lounges everywhere, supplies for labeling, storing, freezing the milk (if your little one was unable to nurse right then, because of surgery or whatever), and as soon as my baby was out of his brain surgery, they put a rocking chair right in the recovery room next to his crib and–tubes, monitors, and all–let me nurse him as soon as he was awake enough. So things have changed, at PCMC at least, thankfully.
Comment by Keryn — May 22, 2008 @ 1:39 pm
if you’re referring to primary children’s, at the university of utah, i believe uofu is attempting to shift into the guidelines of “mother-/baby-friendly” as set forth by the WHO, which includes such components as encouraging breastfeeding over formula, keeping babies with their mother after birth, and so on.
Comment by chandelle — May 22, 2008 @ 2:26 pm
Whoa, I guess I should have foreseen that this would be a topic people would have wanted to talk about. Anyway, thanks for the variety of responses to the original question and the enlightening discussion about breastfeeding. I’ll be forever grateful to the LLC who talked to me every day for a month and met me a few times a week at the hospital the first month after my oldest was born. He had an NG tube in the hospital and had a hard time getting the hang of nursing. I was brand-new at motherhood, shell-shocked from the birth, and totally clueless and I never would have been able to persist without her help. Finally, after more than four weeks of trying, he figured out how to latch, but it was a struggle!
Comment by Shelah — May 22, 2008 @ 2:40 pm
Interesting what you say about armchair breastfeeding advocates, Quimby. What I seem to encounter more is struggling moms assuming that, if you are breastfeeding successfully, you must not have ever struggled, or even if you did, not as hard as they are currently struggling. It’s easy to understand, since breastfeeding, immediately post-partum, is such a self-focused process.
The thing is, I don’t know anyone for whom breastfeeding was easy, especially for a first child (mine wouldn’t latch for a couple of weeks, necessitating pumping and syringe feeding). Even with subsequent children, it takes us about three months until it could be called “easy”–that’s how long it takes for my nipples to toughen up, and for the baby’s mouth to get big and strong enough to latch effectively (so it doesn’t hurt me, and so they can get enough milk and not pop off too easily).
Anyway, back to the original post. I’m currently breastfeeding my third child, aged 7 months. I breastfed my first for 15 months, but didn’t have my second child (using IVF) until my oldest was nearly 5. I got pregnant with my third while still nursing my second, and kept going about halfway through the pregnancy, quitting when he was 21 months. I plan to nurse my daughter at least 18 and maybe even 24 months.
I’ve always had very sensitive nipples, and love breastplay. The only time I don’t like nipple stimulation is during pregnancy (when it’s painful). And I’ve never felt at all odd about my breasts having a dual purpose–and just because I feel extra warm and happy when breastfeeding doesn’t mean I’m having sexual feelings about my baby. It’s just a natural–and pleasurable–physical reaction. One time a few weeks ago I was nursing my daughter in bed and my husband climbed in behind me and nuzzled my neck. Oh dear–perfect nipple stimulation + close proximity of my husband = WOW. Unfortunately she’s still sleeping in our room, and we know from experience that nighttime is the only time she sleeps soundly enough for us to have sex without waking her, so we had to save that one for later.
Comment by janeannechovy — May 22, 2008 @ 9:36 pm
I just want to chime in and say that I love my breasts. I didn’t always, since they were small, and I didn’t feel very womanly. But as I grew older I figured out that small is awesome! My husband thinks so, too. He likes it when they drip milk when we are making love. He also likes to “sample” my son’s food.
I do not have any issues with using them for feeding and for other things during this season. I hate nursing bras–I like just pulling down my bra.
As for some of the other topics covered here: I cannot believe there has been so little mention of formula companies marketing themselves in 3rd world countries. Isn’t it around 2 million babies die a year who wouldn’t have died if they had been breastfed? (check UNICEF)
I know it’s hard. My baby was in the NICU for the first 3 weeks and it took awhile to latch, then it was PAINFUL, thrush, mastitis, the whole nine yards. And breastfeeding was a constant activity, not every 2 hours. Once I figured out that it was normal, I accepted that. I learned to nurse on the go, while holding my son in a wrap. Breastmilk will help cure diaper rash, eczema, etc. I was lucky in that nothing I ate seemed to affect my baby. No gas, no spit up, such a sweet smelling baby, including the poop. I love breastfeeding and hope to keep it up. But it was an hourly struggle for the first 2+ months.
In response to #99: If you read Sarah Blaffer Hrdy, “Mother Nature: A history of mothers, infants and Natural Selection” you’ll hear about the horrors of foundling hospitals, where many of the wet-nurses’ children died. I had no idea such horrors existed in “Christian” Europe over the centuries. The noblewomen’s children survived, but at the expense of others. Wet nursing was not a beautiful thing, most of the time.
Comment by anon7 — May 22, 2008 @ 11:26 pm
Kerry said, “It’s an environmental problem that this many babes are on commercial formula, from thousands of cans and plastic containers.”
I just wanted to add onto this thought. Not only do the formula packages cause problems for the environment, formula manufacturing is very problematic. Higher breastfeeding rates would decrease the use of energy to make formula. A lot of water, oil, etc. is required to make formula. Not to mention the additional dairy cows and the toll they take on the earth. (plus even more environmental problems if the milk is non-organic–pesticides to grow the cattle feed, etc.) I’m sure there are more ways higher breastfeeding rates would help the environment. Help me out, Artemis.
Comment by anon7 — May 22, 2008 @ 11:36 pm
anon7 re: formula-related infant deaths in the 3rd world - most of the excesses happened in the 1970s - if we are going to go back that far in history to make a point . . . And as for the environmental argument - sorry, but when it’s my baby, I don’t care about the excess cows, packaging, etc., I just want my baby to not starve to death.
janeannechovy, I’m glad breastfeeding eventually worked for you. It didn’t for me. My LC said I was doing everything right (in fact she said I could make a video of my latching technique it was so perfect) but there was not enough milk. Sure, it probably would’ve come in eventually; but I wasn’t willing to let my baby go hungry to prove a political point.
But really. I’m done defending my choice.
Comment by Quimby — May 23, 2008 @ 12:03 am
We mustn’t forget (says the scold amongst us) that breastfeeding is a two-edged sword (two-nippled body part?) To properly breast feed requires, as has been amply documented, that the mother be with the baby nearby pretty much 24/7. This is not possible for many many women, i.e., pretty much anyone who works. It wasn’t for me. I basically pumped in pretty much all my spare time between jobs and still had to rely on formula to fill in, for which I am grateful.
Plus the increasing income inequality in the United States has made the possibility of a single income supporting an entire family a receding dream for many folks. So, breastfeeding, though the ideal, really isn’t possible for many among us.
Comment by djinn — May 23, 2008 @ 12:15 am
Please release my comment from the spam filter.
Comment by mami — May 23, 2008 @ 12:54 am
Quimby-
If you want to fomula feed, fine. But please don’t say it doesn’t matter anymore. 16,000 babies will die in the Philipines this year alone because they are not breastfed. Look at any UNICEF research and you will see reality. Breastfeeding isn’t promoted for fun. It’s promoted to save lives.
Comment by mami — May 23, 2008 @ 1:16 am
mami, stop. Just stop. Part of feminism is defending the rights of women to make choices even if you don’t agree with those choices. You have made your point abundantly clear. Now lay off before I really go after you. Nobody is saying that formula is superior. But don’t accuse me of killing babies (or not caring about babies dying) because I use formula.
Comment by Quimby — May 23, 2008 @ 2:17 am
djinn, I have recently been thinking the same thing about income inequality. Even though recent studies have shown no long-term ill effects from formula feeding (my husband is walking proof that you can have a powerful immune system without ever having consumed breast milk), breastfeeding is without question still cheaper, more convenient, and more environmentally friendly than bottle feeding. However, as in so many other areas (health care for one), you have to have money to save money, and breastfeeding is increasingly only available to women who can afford not to work outside the home.
Sorry you felt like I was attacking you, Quimby. I have had friends who had to quit nursing because of insufficient glandular tissue, and I know there are lots of very good reasons for not breastfeeding. I was just reflecting on how alone we all can feel when we’re struggling with something portrayed as natural and simple.
Oh, and I’ve tasted my own breast milk. Not just from a bottle–after 2.5 kids’ worth of nursing, I can actually suck on my own nipple! (sorry if that’s TMI!)I just took a taste, though–I’m lactose-intolerant and any more might have made me feel yukky.
Comment by janeannechovy — May 23, 2008 @ 2:24 am
I tasted my own breastmilk too. Actually I loved everything about breastfeeding and found it amazingly easy after the first two days. There was no pain, it was all wonderful, there was just no milk - which surprised the heck out of me because I was leaking everywhere before bubs was born. (Seriously, I had to go to work with a spare top because I’d often leak through - bra, nursing pads, t-shirt, dressier over-shirt, and all.) Short of taking prescription drugs, I couldn’t produce milk - that was straight from the LC, who was also a trained nurse midwife - and I didn’t want to take prescription drugs because I was worried about passing the medication on to my child, and it was a fairly new and untested medication, and I thought, Well, formula might be inferior, but we don’t know the long-term effects of this drug and we do know the long-term effects of formula, and formula is - despite what Mami and others say - safe and effective as long as it is prepared correctly. (Which isn’t too hard if you have access to clean water and enough money to not have to water it down to make the formula last.) So. Yeah, I could’ve taken the drugs and fed my baby, but is a drug-produced milk really superior to formula anyway? (I kept imagining the dairy industry in the US where cows are pumped full of hormones and produce an inferior milk. My daughter wouldn’t touch it when we were in the US. She couldn’t stand the taste. And she was drinking well over a litre of milk a day at that stage.) Was I wrong? Who knows. I do know that my formula-fed baby is doing much better developmentally and intellectually (although who can test intellect in a 2 year old?) than many of her breast-fed peers. I also know that for almost every study that says breast milk is best (at preventing allergies, increasing IQs, etc.) there’s another study that says maybe not so much. My daughter is healthy and most importantly alive today. I can’t guarantee she’d be either if I’d stuck with breast feeding out of some stubborn need to please breast nazis.
Comment by Quimby — May 23, 2008 @ 2:36 am
But actually, none of that should matter. Even if I’d decided not to breastfeed for _______ - whatever reason, because I didn’t want my breasts to go saggy or because I was HIV positive and didn’t want to pass it on to my child - it shouldn’t matter. We should be supporting women to educate themselves and make the best decisions for their circumstances, no matter what those decisions are, even if they are different to ours.
To use another (contraversial) topic, I’ve been doing a lot of reading on “natural” childbirth. What really pisses me off is this attitude of, “We are educated and know what’s best, and all those poor women who have had c-sections are manipulated by their doctors and just don’t know the facts.” There are lots of women who have c-sections because they have made an educated decision to have the procedure. There are other women who have c-sections because it was necessary to save their lives or the lives of their children. If they are educated and making a fully informed decision, so what if it’s not what someone else would choose.
Because what it all comes down to is - this is MY body. This is OUR child. I get to make the decisions that are best for my body; and my husband and I get to make the decisions that are best for our child. If Mami or anyone else doesn’t like it - well praise the Lord that you aren’t me and I’m not raising your child. But I’m fairly intelligent. I do my research. I don’t need your pity or your judgements, and I certainly shouldn’t have to defend my choices, because that is the beauty of feminism - I get to make choices and I don’t have to fit into your check-boxes to be a woman, a wife, a mother.
Comment by Quimby — May 23, 2008 @ 3:30 am
quimby,
you don’t have to explain yourself to anyone. i’m a staunch supporter, even an activist, for both homebirth and breastfeeding. but i completely respect your choices, understand your thinking, and think you’re an awesome mother. breastfeeding and unmedicated birth do not make a mother. parenting makes a mother. i had a homebirth, and i went far out of my way to get breastmilk for my daughter, but i also transported to the hospital when a planned homebirth went awry, and failed at breastfeeding myself. and you know what? i’m a completely bad-ass mama. and you are right. feminism is about supporting women in making educated, autonomous choices. and if doing so led you to have cesareans and use formula, then i support you in those choices. i used to believe, with every fiber of my being :), that people who chose differently from me in all of my many alternative choices were just un- or miseducated, unthinking and uncaring. but you know what? i was wrong. and so is everyone else who believes that.
(hee hee!)
Comment by chandelle — May 23, 2008 @ 8:20 am
Quimby-
I AM NOT ACCUSING YOU!!! I really don’t care how your feed your kid. I just don’t like it when people put out there inaccurate information. That’s it.
I NEVER said you were a bad mom, or you were killing your kid. I never put you in a box.
Please look at the flip side. My sister called me a few weeks ago. She was annoyed. She recently had a baby. She was sooo sick and tired of everyone she knew out of the blue explaining to her why they didn’t breastfeed.
Quimby, I never asked why you didn’t breastfeed because I know it is none of my business. I am sick and tired of moms who don’t breastfeed accusing moms who do of “making them feel guilty”. I argued with the fact that you said babies don’t die anymore from lack of breastfeeding in third world countries. That is simply not true. I did not say you were a terrible parent. I did not even know you did’t breastfeed until a few comments ago. Please just stop accusing me of making you feel guilty.
Comment by mami — May 23, 2008 @ 10:19 am
Mami,
You put ME IN A BOX, when I mentioned that one of the reasons I didn’t breast feed is because to me, my breasts are sexual not utilities. You attacked me saying it was all in relation to my attitude to porn. You said ‘it is sad really.”.
So, you do condescend to women who feel differently than you, even though my choice was made with much deliberation and some guilt. In the end, I claimed I wanted MY body back… for me… And boy did you find a way to try and condemn my decision - using porn as the excuse no less.
Comment by Elise — May 23, 2008 @ 11:01 am
Elise,
You are right I did put you in a box. Fairly or unfairly, that has to do with the way you view breasts though, not specifically to whether or not you breastfed.
Comment by mami — May 23, 2008 @ 11:16 am
You are still at each other?!
Breasts are good things. They feed babies and husbands and look cute too. Stop with the name calling already.
Comment by Jami — May 23, 2008 @ 11:20 am
I’m not sure where I ever even mentioned breasts in the ‘p0rn’ posting… As for this posting, my breasts are sexual, yes - I’m just not sure where I differeniate from others who’ve expressed the same thing. And also, my breasts (well nipples) have always been a sexual part of me well before I came across any books/media etc in my youth - (little girls discover themselves too you know), I also posted on here that I respect women who can do both (nurse and be sexual) with their breasts. I never condemned it, I looked up to it as something I couldn’t wrap my mind around.
So I guess I’m feeling that your attack and dismissal of my opinions as being meritless because of my opinion on some p0rn (educational mostly) is definitely unfair and non-sequitur.
Comment by Elise — May 23, 2008 @ 11:27 am
ENOUGH ALREADY!!!!!
Comment by mfranti — May 23, 2008 @ 11:31 am
i like my breasts.
Comment by Mary Magdalene — May 23, 2008 @ 12:31 pm
I was a bit harsh in this post, Mami, but in the interests of finishing this discussion before my 2 year old graduates high school I’m editing.
Suffice it to say - I never said that children in the developing world don’t die from lack of breastfeeding. I said that the worst excesses of the formula companies marketing to the developing world happened in the 1970s.
Probably 9/10ths of our arguments could be avoided if you responded to what was actually written instead of responding to some biased, bizarre interpretation of what was actually written.
Comment by Quimby — May 23, 2008 @ 3:04 pm
Chandelle, the truly ironic thing is that breastfeeding was going so smoothly for me (or so I thought) that I was well on my way to being one of those breastfeeding nazis too. It was so easy! It was so pleasant! It was so natural! How could anyone not breastfeed their child!
And if I’d had an easy-peasy labor, I’m sure I would’ve been the biggest natural childbirth advocate too. I remember when my oldest sister got pregnant. My mom always had easy labors and deliveries. My sister was freaking out about labor (because of course when you’re pregnant that’s when everyone tells you their horror stories) and my mom said, “Oh, I wish they’d stop lying to you. Labor’s not that bad.” Because hers weren’t - she always thought women who were going on and on about tearing and 30 hour labors were just drama queens. Then my oldest sister very nearly died during delivery, and my mom felt horrible. Growing up I always had this picture of me giving birth in a nice hot tub - that really appealled to me - but the reality was, my body wouldn’t let me. (Freakin’ God and his freakin’ sense of humor! With these hips you’d think I’d be able to push out a water buffalo!) And now, I’m kind of glad it worked out the way it did, because I know that things don’t always work the way they’re supposed to. It’s just a shame I was so arrogant I had to go through it myself to learn the lesson.
Comment by Quimby — May 23, 2008 @ 3:09 pm
And if I’d had an easy-peasy labor, I’m sure I would’ve been the biggest natural childbirth advocate too…
And now, I’m kind of glad it worked out the way it did, because I know that things don’t always work the way they’re supposed to. It’s just a shame I was so arrogant I had to go through it myself to learn the lesson…
quimby, i feel EXACTLY the same way. FWIW, i actually did not have easy-peasy labors. my first was 60 hours; that’s the one that ended in the hospital. i didn’t have drugs, but it was hellish. my second, the homebirth, was only 9 hours, but my daughter went into distress from tangling in her cord. also hellish. now, i remain a supporter of unmedicated/home birth. and despite my own experiences, i remain a massive supporter for breastfeeding. but i AM happy to have my own experiences, for the same reason: it’s humbled me. i used to be incredibly arrogant about breastfeeding and homebirth. now i realize that it’s not right for everyone, and it doesn’t work for everyone, and that’s okay.
frankly, we mamas have enough to feel guilty about without trying to make each other feel bad. we should be supporting one another unequivocally. we’re all we’ve got in the world most of the time.
Comment by chandelle — May 23, 2008 @ 5:41 pm
Ack! The site ate my comments.
I just wanted to let you know how refreshing it was to read your words, Quimby. I’m pretty tired of being called names and looked down on for the choices I had to make for my family.
I’ve had three c-sections (I’d like a raising of hands for all the women who could have pushed out my 12 lbs. 12 oz son on their first try). I had a choice between pushing out a child who would not fit (and I have wide hips - I never thought this would be an issue), breaking my pelvic bones, breaking bones in his body, letting him continue to possibly intake meconium and increase our risk of infection, or do a c-section and bypass all that. I chose my son’s health.
The second left us little choice as he was every bit as big as his brother, and despite being taken two weeks early, was still 12 lbs. 3 oz. So…my children’s well-being or natural childbirth to prove a point? Sorry, my kids win every time.
And when it came to breastfeeding - I simply did not make enough milk for my oldest son. I was making milk for a newborn but had given birth to a 6-month-old. He was constantly hungry, constantly crying. I was constantly in pain, frustrated, sad, depressed, and every attempted feeding became a nightmare for us both. Thank heavens for formula which, for the first time in his little life, actually filled his belly. He even had to have the added rice cereal because even the formula wasn’t enough for him.
So yeah, I get a lot of grief for it as I continued with c-sections and continued formula feeding. I have exceptionally healthy children (I don’t think any of them has ever had an ear infection, knock on wood) who get the odd cold or stomach virus here and there. They are wonderful kids, smart, fun, loving and I’m thinking they’ll probably be just fine.
I wish women would stop condemning each other for the choices we make in raising our families. I made what I know were the right decisions for my kids, and I do resent people telling me that I’m wrong. My kids were sent to me to parent, not you.
Comment by Sariah — May 23, 2008 @ 6:56 pm
I think that we were given choices and we too often spend absurd amounts of times telling others that their choices are wrong.
Comment by mamacitabonita — May 23, 2008 @ 8:01 pm
Seconding that, that breastfeeding doesn’t always work. I’ve done my genealogy. I know how many of my ancestor’s kids died soon after birth. Perhaps some of these were caused by the inability to breastfeed. Who knows? I wonder, especially, as I have inverted nipples and the sort of skin that not only doesn’t tan but I bled for the first 6ish weeks when I tried to breastfeed. I swear, trying to put my baby on my bleeding breast with that amount of pain was one of the most difficult things I have ever done — but I have a weird relationship with pain, not one that I expect anyone else to be able to approximate.
Comment by djinn — May 23, 2008 @ 8:48 pm
finally looked up the numbers on the UNICEF website–it’s 1.3 million deaths a year that breastfeeding could avert. (from 2007–not the 1970s!) This doesn’t really affect those of us in the developed world, but you can’t reasonably argue that formula feeding is fine for most of the world’s babies. Again, it’s better than nothing if breastfeeding is not an option…
http://www.unicef.org/media/media_40468.html
Comment by anon7 — May 24, 2008 @ 12:44 pm
Well, yeah, actually you can argue that formula is fine for most of the world’s babies, so long as they follow the directions on the can and use safe drinking water. At the risk of sounding like I’m echoing the NRA, formula isn’t what kills babies; it’s lack of clean drinking water, lack of sterilisation, stretching of formula that kills babies.
But you know, I can’t remember ever even seeing formula in any third-world country I’ve visited. It’s not like most third-world countries have grocery stores in any sense of the word you or I would recognise. I haven’t seen formula in markets. Nor have I ever seen ads for formula on billboards. Marketing works differently in the developing world than in the developed world. For the most part you don’t have ads on TV or radio (particularly not for the poorest, who often don’t have access to electricity, let alone TV or radio). And it’s not like there’s a great deal of money just laying around for anyone to spend on luxury items. I would venture a guess that at least half of the women who use formula in the developing world, do so because they are having difficulties breast-feeding and feel they have no other option. (When you’re living in a city - and urban migration is a major factor in many places in the developing world - you are more isolated and less likely to have a friend or family member to pass your baby on to.)
But even so, instead of blaming formula for the deaths, let’s blame poverty and unclean drinking water. The added benefit is that in ending poverty and cleaning up drinking water (which are both entirely achievable goals - unlike a breast feeding success rate of 100%, when up to 15% of all women cannot breastfeed for whatever reason) we could stop another approximately 100 million deaths a year.
Comment by Quimby — May 24, 2008 @ 4:44 pm
But even so, instead of blaming formula for the deaths, let’s blame poverty and unclean drinking water. The added benefit is that in ending poverty and cleaning up drinking water (which are both entirely achievable goals - unlike a breast feeding success rate of 100%, when up to 15% of all women cannot breastfeed for whatever reason) we could stop another approximately 100 million deaths a year.
Comment by Quimby — May 24, 2008 @ 4:44 pm
I agree with what you’re saying Quimby. However, according to WHO/UNICEF, developing countries have an average breastfeeding rate of 38% at 6 months. Should they aim to increase that percentage? If the 15% is the number who cannot breastfeed for whatever reason, then 85% can. 85% is a far cry from 38%.
Comment by anon7 — May 24, 2008 @ 6:14 pm
One other point to consider…. Yet another reason I couldn’t/wouldn’t breastfeed is because I have never been much of a water person and I’m perennially dehydrated. My breasts were too it would seem (pink milk of what little they did pump.) Anyway, if women don’t drink a lot of water, they may not produce enough milk. While it’s easy to drink lots of water here in the US, not so in 3rd world countries. I bet a LOT of women are dehydrated there.
Comment by Elise — May 24, 2008 @ 6:27 pm
I am all in favor of breastfeeding. If you’re breastfeeding in public and someone gives you a hard time, I’m the first person who will kick the other person’s butt. Breastfeeding should be encouraged and absolutely 100% legal everywhere (church, school, shopping malls, parks, legislative halls, etc.) Breastfeeding is great, it’s wonderful, it’s portable and safe and sanitary and terrific. If you can breastfeed for a year or two (or three or four) great.
But - formula in itself is a perfectly decent substitute. It’s not a perfect substitute; but babies will thrive on formula so long as it’s used correctly. Formula is not designed to kill babies and will only kill babies if it’s used incorrectly.
By 6 months, most babies can have some solids introduced. I’m not sure what that 38% at 6 months means - does it mean that 38% of women are exclusively breastfeeding (eg no solids)? Does it mean that the rest of the women are exclusively using formula instead (eg no soilds)? Does it mean that the rest of the women have introduced some other form of milk (eg goat’s or cow’s?)
What are the circumstances of the women? In the developing world most women have to contribute financially to the family income. Maybe it’s simply not possible for them to breastfeed past 6 months; maybe that’s all the time their family can afford for them to focus on the youngest member.
WHO recommends breastfeeding for the first 2 years of life. But there is a time when breastmilk enough is not enough to meet a child’s nutritional needs. Certainly in areas where there is chronic malnourishment breastmilk can be a cheap and effective way of upping an infant or toddler’s caloric intake. But if a mother is malnourished or dehydrated, she may not be able to breastfeed. Breastfeeding can take a tremondous toll on the mother’s caloric intake.
Comment by Quimby — May 24, 2008 @ 7:30 pm
[…] Mormon Housewives (Yes, Grasshopper, that’s a real blog) and stumble upon a discussion On Retiring the Breasts. Admittedly, I’ve never considered the possibility of women retiring their breasts. […]
Pingback by something’s rotten » Blog Archive » Breast retirement — May 26, 2008 @ 6:25 am
I must say, I am so glad that there are other women out there that can’t breastfeed.
I live in a culture where breastfeeding is a given. If you don’t do it you don’t love your child.
I believed it and the result was that my baby was slowly starving. After giving up and giving her formula she thrived.
It was the same with all seven of my children. Initially I felt like a failure. I was a bad mother.
But, I learned to enjoy the benefits of bottle feeding (and there are many).
And in spite of the beliefs of breastfeeding nazis (those that think breastfeeding is the only way) my children did not grow up sickly, psychotic, stupid, or serial killers.
I’m pro-breastfeeding. Actually I believe that it doesn’t matter how you feed your baby as long as he/she gets fed.
But so many people call me anti-breastfeeding and say that I just didn’t try hard enough. The belief is that every woman can breastfeed.
Which is ridiculous. We know that not every woman can get pregnant, or carry a child to full term, or give birth naturally, why then do we believe that the woman who can’t breastfeed just doesn’t try hard enough.
It’s a sore spot with me. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I couldn’t breastfeed, and in fact became grateful for it, but I resent the inference that I’m a bad mother because of it.
And by the way, even though I’m divorced and therefore celebate, I am still glad I have breasts.
So I feel validated here. And that 5% number, shows that there’s actually quite a few of us. Enough to show the bfnazis that we are not liars.
Comment by Anna — May 30, 2008 @ 10:02 pm