It's (once again) taken me a while to form my thoughts on a parenting concept.
Everyone has seen this image circulating the interwebs.
And honestly, I don't know how I feel about it.
Am I happy that even more people are pushing for acceptance of breastfeeding? Yes.
But it also raises some flags in my head.
It's this idealized view that you can be this gorgeous supermom who can nonchalantly feed her (not peeing on her) naked baby.
Yes, I know it's an editorial picture but part of me feels like it's not real because of that.
Why not have her curled up on her bed, wet tears still on her cheeks because the latch hurts so damn much for the first couple weeks?
Why not show her in a pair of yoga pants because she is still self conscious about her stomach?
Or nursing half asleep because she hasn't had a full night of sleep in 3 months?
Why not show dad feeding the baby a bottle of pumped milk?
A couple weeks back, my husband and I went to a wedding a couple states over. We had a friend come to watch the two kids in the hotel because I couldn't be that far from them overnight. I wore a pretty dress and curled my hair. Between the ceremony and the reception I went back to the room to nurse my little guy. It's the closest I will ever get to this photo.
In that moment, I felt like the ultimate supermom: composed, groomed, nursing a happy baby... but it's only a small piece of the whole breastfeeding picture in my house.
Breastfeeding is me in yoga pants on the couch.
Breastfeeding while walking through the Aquarium because little man decided he needed to eat at that moment.
Breastfeeding is my ugly simple nursing bras that are more function than form.
Breastfeeding is my 3 month old's hand wrapped around my finger so he stops scratching the top of my chest.
I wish Glamour had shown these other facets too.
Just as breastfeeding is beautiful, there is a beauty in the struggle of breastfeeding as well.