I was in my early twenties when I moved to California. 

I moved away from, what I guess is considered, my hometown, in Missouri. Living in a suburb of Kansas City I remember the first time I ever drove to Kansas City by myself. I was terrified, I got turned around by a ton of construction and I was lost because the directions I had printed out no longer made sense to my panicked, frantic mind.

I grew up relatively sheltered. Not in an extreme way, but I spent my childhood into my teen years going to a Catholic or Baptist church. As a teenager, while my friends were busy putting on make up and sneaking out to experiment with their boyfriends, whatever that means, I hadn’t even kissed anyone, I was still jumping off roofs in the day time and sneaking out at night to eat taco bell.

Maybe I wasn’t necessarily sheltered. Maybe I was just innocent, very innocent. Whatever the case, I was very shocked when I turned 18.

Entering a job in the “service industry” can be a very confusing, overwhelming, and tough to keep up with lifestyle for such an innocent child. Of course, I learned very quickly how childlike I was and battled myself against it to fit in.

But being a child, while also being a new found Adult, I was having a hard time finding the balance of expressing my opinion or keeping it to myself. Remember what your mother says, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” ? I felt it was very important for me to express my opinion. I’m an adult for God’s sake, look at me.

One morning at breakfast, very soon after I had moved to California, I couldn’t help but notice a woman with her family. She had her spouse, and two children. Both children were running around screaming, catching my attention. The mother then lifted up her shirt and gave her son milk. Right there in public! I was horrified. Then after a few minutes, she told him, “Oh look! Your big boy food is here.” I couldn’t wrap my head around the situation.

In my young, sheltered mind I was thinking, “Why on Earth would you not only whip your boob out for all to see, I mean I’m eating here, but also for your son who can run and talk?!!”

I must have told 100 people that thought. The judgement I had for this lady was very, very deep. And I still am unsure of exactly where it came from.

At some point my opinion on this matter shifted. It was, again, before I was a mother and had any kind of sense of that it takes to care for a child. Maybe it was the “hippie” of California that drew it out of me but I did a 180 and started to believe it was down right wrong to cover yourself up while breastfeeding. “Do you want this child to suffocate?” “My child should suffer and be uncomfortable because you, the adult, can’t sit with your own discomfort?” It was more and more outrageous to me that women are so censored and made to feel guilty for their natural bodies. Breastfeeding is VITAL for brain development and I should be able to do it whenever, however, and at whatever age is CORRECT. The correct age is don’t you know, backed up by science. My children will be fed until they are 2, at least.

Take a big sigh of relief here. That is a lot of judgement. Woo.

Fast forward to meeting Robert

Robert is a modest man. I really pushed against modesty, in many forms. I’d go as far to say that I overdo most things in my life. Or did. Maybe to show others that I was an adult. “I am powerful.” “I can do big things because I’m big.”

I could not have predicted the way I was going to breastfeed my children. I covered the hell up! And I loved it. Primrose needed a lot of extra care as a baby. She is considered a “high needs” baby/child and it took us a long time to find our groove. I’m pretty sure she didn’t have a proper latch until 3 days in, no wondering she was screaming crying. I was comforted to be able to shut out all distractions while she ate and really focus on being together. I also felt like I could be anywhere, which was completely opposite of what I had thought it would be like. A friend had once said to me, “My husband mentioned how cool he thought it was that you were covered up breastfeeding right there in the circle, like no one would have known.”. It felt like a relief. Some part of me wanted to be that open mama and bare it all. Who the heck cares? But then I remember the time I got into a sauna naked with 4 others, because its not a big deal right? But later I heard from other males that their friends got to see me naked why not them? And I am reminded that I don’t want people talking about my body like that. 

I quit breastfeeding Primrose when she was 15 months old, just over one years old. I was pregnant and I believed I could not tandem feed. So one morning I just decided that the day before was out last day. I thought this seemed fair, and easier to deal with for me. If neither of us knew it was going to happen, then we could both go through the emotions of it together. She couldn’t talk yet, but she was very good at using her sign language. Over the next three days she would give me the double milk sign (I loved when she would do this: She would use both hands and milk away) and it would just crush me but she adapted very well.

With Marlena I found a lot of comfort knowing I would cover myself and the ease I have experienced before. I also quite breastfeeding Marlena the same way. At 14 months I woke up one day and knew the day before had been the last. She did not take it as well, and did not as quickly forget why she had sat on my lap so much. My usual calm, cool as a cuke baby turned into a violent thrasher who would hit my face and sob face down on the floor. I am thankful she cannot talk. This was just last month. She has since cooled off, but every now and then she tries to remember something…..”What was is that I used to do on this lap”…..

And with all that….I cannot believe that this is the first time in 4 years that I am not pregnant or breastfeeding. FOUR YEARS. I told Robert I might just go for a ski by myself….no worries about falling on a baby in my belly, no cares about getting back at a certain time to make sure the baby gets milk…..I can just go……

And all we have is rain.

And the opportunity to look deeper into ourselves and our opinions.

I throughly enjoyed wrapping my babies in a cocoon to nourish them. Whatever you do, enjoy it, it’s ALL right.