Every mother is aware of the critical stares they receive. I can't forget the lady who took a distinct approach.
When I stroll along a clean street close to my house in suburban Virginia, a sharp recollection of a different sound haunts me: my daughter's heartrending shrieks.
Those shattering cries interrupted me from a daydream as I pushed her stroller down the very pavement in December 2022. My daughter was unwell from daycare, and I'd taken her for a walk hoping the cooler temperature would alleviate her cough. It seemed to be working, until unexpectedly, it wasn't.
There are occasions as a parent where you discover yourself performing actions you swore you'd never do, especially when your child is throwing a meltdown in public. This was one such incident for me, yet that is not the main reason it's etched in my memory.
I'll always remember that day not because of what my child did or even how I dealt with it, but because of the astonishing manner a stranger reacted.
On that December afternoon, my usually joyful 17-month-old was going through an all-out breakdown.
As her face flushed with rage, I attempted to give her the bottle I'd brought. She flicked it to the floor and thrashed her legs so violently one of her shoes went flying off.
Although she was still learning her initial words, she had no problem communicating her dismay. She didn't want milk from a bottle. She wanted it directly from me.
The way I viewed it, that was plainly impossible right then — and the notion of it was mortifying. I hadn't brought my nursing cowl, the refined shawl I always made an effort to wear while nursing her in public. Each time she needed to nurse, I tried to cover up politely or slip away discreetly. Along this street, we were exposed. There was nowhere to hide.
It's only now that I can see how absurd that seems. There are numerous areas of the planet where women and children must take refuge to ensure their survival. I was fortunate to be in a position of safety. And ultimately, I was proud to be a parent and loved feeding my daughter, so why did I feel so embarrassed?
Long before I ever had a child of my own, I'd heard criticisms from TV personalities who had disparaged breastfeeding in public, I'd read stories about women who were asked to cover up, and I'd even sensed derogatory comments from close relatives about how moms breastfed their infants. Of course, I'd also heard about celebrities and observed friends who disregarded these outdated standards.
And while breastfeeding in public myself, most people did not seem to notice — or else they pretended not to.
But although I felt acknowledged, whenever I fed my child outside our home, I still felt apprehensive about whether someone would be offended. The years of comments I'd heard instilled in me a sense of shame about my body, and about feeding my child, without my even being aware of it.
So even as my daughter's cries grew louder with each stride, breastfeeding her seemed impossible. I saw no benches or parks in any direction, and I was certain I wouldn't sink into the ground and vanish. The only available option was to return home.
I estimated how long it would take if I briskly walked. If I hurried, we could likely be home in 10 minutes. Though I knew my daughter would become more hysterical with each step, I paused to consider how long she had been restless at night due to coughing fits. In my annoyance, I pondered the many houses we'd have to pass with her bawling at the top of her voice. Standing out in the middle of the sidewalk and revealing my breasts was something I swore I'd never do.
However, the tantrum escalated with every step I took. I observed my daughter gasping to breathe whilst sobbing, and I thought about how difficult the previous few nights had been, with her restless sleep disturbing the peace of our house.
Understanding that giving her what she needed was more crucial than my discomfort and any possible embarrassment. I shifted my position, removed my shirt, and hurried to satisfy her hunger.
What shocked me most were her swift relaxation. I was alarmed to hear auto engines or the clinking of a dog's leash, certain someone would notice our unconventional feeding arrangement.
In the distance, I perceived a woman approaching us briskly.
I prepared for the condemning questions that I was positive she would ask.
Why was I obstructing the sidewalk?
Why was I flashing the neighbors instead of feeding my daughter at home?
Why couldn't I control my child?
Yet when she reached our part of the sidewalk, this woman didn't address those queries.
She said kind and heartfelt things.
"Are you okay?" she enquired.
My heart leaped. I'd been convinced she would judge me.
"Yes," I said, feeling a bit embarrassed. "She just broke down, and I had to feed her."
The woman didn't glare. She beamed.
Then she shared how lovely my daughter and I looked perched there together, accompanied by the classical music playing in her headphones.
Her words served as an embrace I hadn't even recognized I required.
With the passing of time, I found myself seeing the world the way she did. Getting rid of the burdens that had been holding me back, I started to open up.
It has been more than 12 months since our paths first met, but her face no longer comes to mind. However, her warmth remains, caressing me still.
That day, I disclosed to her about the tranquil stroll we were on when things suddenly went awry. I revealed that my daughter had been sick at home for a week, leaving her utterly drained.
The mysterious lady acknowledged my predicament, understanding my weariness as well. She enquired about my current state of mind.
Tears filled my eyes.
I assured her I was coping fine, as she was the very one responsible for it.
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After the heartwarming encounter, I began to reflect on the importance of self-care and wellness. With my newfound confidence, I started incorporating regular exercises into my daily routine to improve my physical health.
As the months passed, I also recognized the need for mental wellness and started practicing mindfulness techniques, such as meditation and deep breathing exercises, to manage stress and promote emotional balance. By taking care of both my physical and mental health, I felt more resilient and better equipped to handle any challenges that came my way.
Source: edition.cnn.com
