Judith Warner, I hate you.
I hate that you look at the world in a black and white way.
I hate that you would make any mother feel badly about her choices (assuming, of course, those choices are not putting a child in danger).
I hate you–and the New York Times–for publishing this column after the fervor from the Hanna Rosin article had died down in the blogosphere. Because we have to stir the pot once a month; twice in the same month is a waste.
I hate that you want to ban a device that helps women provide nourishment for their children. Who might be separated from them because of work, school, illness, time in the NICU, or a million reasons that don’t necessarily justify dumping breastfeeding or pumping altogether. Because of how it makes you feel. Normal people don’t slam something that they may not personally like but works for others. Could you imagine if the Amish wanted to outlaw zippers for the entirety of the United States? It’s ludicrous.
You know what I tell my children to say if they’re presented with something they don’t like? Not “yuck” or “ew” or “ick.” (Because it’s rude and obnoxious and denigrates what others may like or prefer.) I teach them to say, “No, thank you, it’s not for me.” Or, “Thank you, I’d prefer something else.”
So, Judith Warner, take a lesson from my kids. I hope by the time they’re six they’ll be more open-minded than you are at middle age.
Hat tip to Micaela for interrupting my Pesach prep with the link to my hometown newspaper.
Dude? What is it with these upper-middle class east coast mothers who feel like they can speak for all of us?
You know what? I didn’t mind pumping. It made me happy, because it was something I was doing for my daughter when I was away from her. It made it easier to leave her in those early days when it was oh so hard (but oh so necessary) for me to do so. It allowed me to have the kind of breastfeeding relationship THAT I WANTED with my daughter. One that ended when she and I decided it should end, not when it had to end because Mommy also wanted to work.
And what freaking guilt about breastfeeding? No one ever gave me a guilt trip to ensure that I kept breastfeeding. I did it because it was what I wanted to do. I was grateful for the resources that were provided that made it easier for me to do, but even at the breastfeeding support group I went to, no one ever said anything bad about formula. Heck, the leader told us how she used it to allow herself nights out when her kids were little.
I know we often joke about California being like its own country, but really, right now I feel like I’m in an entirely different mothering universe than the one these women are writing about. And in my universe? These women are SOOOO not helping.
I wish I was a better writer so that I could write an opinion piece for the NYT or Atlantic telling them about my mothering universe, in which the choice about how to feed your child is not one on which people are judged and in which the breast pump is an instrument of liberation, not subjugation.
In my mothering universe, the biggest issues are ensuring that everyone has access to high quality day care if they want it, that they can have sufficient paid family leave so that its not just us upper middle class folks who get time past the 6 week disability period, and that their companies are required to provide them with time and space to pump IF THEY CHOOSE TO DO THAT- in short, ensuring that society provides some minimal support to allow mothers to be the types of parents they want to be while also keeping their jobs if they want/need to do that. To me, this nonsense about formula vs. breastfeeding is just distracting from those key issues.
Oh, and the breast pump was also the only way Hubby and I got a night away from our lovely, but sleep-challenged, daughter for the first year of her life. I credit these few nights away, courtesy of my wonderful parents, with saving my sanity.
Cloud you are a lovely writer. That comment above couldn’t be more beautifully written.
Ema, I felt the same way when I read that this morning. I’m just sick and tired of Supposed Publications of Record giving mouthpieces to a very small segment of the population – one that has the choice to say “ew feeding with boobies is just icky and my highly educated self is going to choose not to take advantage of being able to buy the $300 breast pump to feed my kid…”
Whatever. I’m all cranky about this and just glad I was given the support and opportunity to avoid feeding rocket fuel formula to my kid (say, if they can overexaggerate to prove their points in the Atlantic and NYT, I can overexaggerate here…)
I’m glad at least we have this space with other open-minded women. Thank, Kate. And thanks for being supportive a year ago when I had my baby and wanted to breastfed and pump. You’ve always been supportive…we need more of that. Not more divisive columns…
I hate when people try to rule how we want to do things!
…and procrastinating on my own pesah prep – you know, I really didn’t mind pumping. I actually kind of liked it, seeing the milk for once. and my impression was that the women who hated it (and never failed to mention cows) were the women who found the whole breasfteeding-idea to be too bovine for them.
“and my impression was that the women who hated it (and never failed to mention cows) were the women who found the whole breasfteeding-idea to be too bovine for them.”
Um, no. Loved breastfeeding. LOATHED pumping.
I never considered not pumping, because it was the only way I was going to have a chance of breastfeeding later (when my near-term twins were finally mature enough to catch on.) But if there was no hope of them eventually learning to breastfeed, I’m pretty sure I would have quit. I’m in awe of mothers who can pump exclusively, but I’m not one of them. And once breastfeeding was secure, I would never consider pumping just so I could get out of the house. I’d rather do anything than look at that pump again.
I would think it was because the context of my pumping was such an unhappy one. But one of my sisters – happily breastfeeding, happily going back to work part time – told me later that she had also refused to pump. Just turned off by the idea.
It would be as silly to think women who dislike pumping must also dislike nursing, as to think women who dislike nursing two babies at once must also
dislike nursing one. I happened to love simultaneous nursing, once I got it to work; it felt weird, yeah, but also amazing. But I know moms of multiples very dedicated to nursing, who just didn’t like the way nursing two at once felt. Cows were definitely mentioned. So they nursed them one at a time, and good for them.
Breasts are very… personal, to state the obvious. The social messages that influence how we feel about them start seeping in long before breastfeeding (or pumping) comes up. And there’s probably also a wired-in, sensory component that we can’t do much about. To each her own, etc.
Which I think goes to Kate’s point.
If pumping is the best solution for you, then thank Gd we have pumps. If it doesn’t work for you, it should absolutely be society’s responsibility to make it possible for you to continue to nurse, without having to pump. Longer maternity leave, daycare on worksite, etc etc. Pumps are not the enemy; but they are the cheapest, easiest, and – yes – most unpleasant solution society can throw at the problem.
You’re right, Persephone – sorry for the generalization.
Pumping frustrated me a lot–thankfully I did not need do it, really, except maybe once a month. I got to the point when I’d preferred to hand express because there was a higher yield, and with far less to wash afterwards 🙂 But that was a situation that worked for me; I couldn’t recommend it to anyone else!
Persephone, although I tandem nursed (technically) for 26 months, I could count on one hand the number of times it meant nurse 2 children simultaneously. After the initial five seconds of “I am the uber mother!” I really could not stand all the sensory input. Starting from two-from-scratch, though, might have been different. You’re right, it really is so personal.
I shouldn’t have read that article. “Rant me up” is right! I won’t go off too much right now, though. Cloud summed up most of my feelings (as she often does), and it was well-written!
I loathed pumping itself, because it was very difficult for me and my nipples. I don’t like to get into why, but uncomfortable and hurt are complete understatements for me.
However, I personally needed to go back to work after 3 months leave, and it was important to me to continue our breastfeeding relationship. I could have used formula, but like Cloud said, it made me feel emotionally (not physically) good to be able to take time during my work day and so something meaningful (to me) for my baby.
I also wish these women would at least write from the perspective that they personally didn’t like to bf or pump and that that’s okay, too. Not that every woman must hate it. The pump IS liberating! It allowed me to go back to work when I wanted to without giving up the bfing relationship that I wanted.
I just wish that more time and energy was spent finding ways to make it more comfortable and more effective for those of us with issues. In addition to more paid time off, access to pumping rooms for all women, etc. etc.
One of the commenters* on that article wrote this: “This selfless/selfish battle is one that I think most mothers face constantly. I’m never sure if I’m winning or losing.”
And that is exactly how I’ve felt on practically every parenting issue, including pumping. I really hate pumping (at work), but I did it because I wanted an adequate supply to be able to breastfeed on the days I was at home with my baby all day. And it allowed me to go to three conferences – all while my son was under thirteen months – without having to wean him. So I know I won in this case, but it hasn’t been without its costs.
In other issues, e.g., making all his baby food (instead of buying jarred food), figuring out how/where to get him to sleep, etc., it’s always such a struggle to figure out what’s best for my son, what’s best for us, what the possible solutions are, and what works. I’m pretty sure that what’s best for our son turns out to also be what’s best for us – which is great, though it may just be that I align my priorities according to what’s best for him.
*Interestingly, commenter was writing in support of Warner’s opinion piece.
[…] I am out of juice to respond to this. I feel like I’ve made my arguments, in response to Hanna Rosin, in response to Judith Warner. […]