I was at a doctor’s appointment and had to do it. You know, it. Flash my scandalous lady parts in public for the nourishment of my 2-month-old son.
Whoever told me that breastfeeding in public was simple should go hide in the sand for the rest of eternity. Those mothers must have safely tranquilized their young, and if that is the case, and if you are reading this, please refer me to a vendor.
Try telling a puppy—better, a Labrador retriever puppy—to lay still on its bed, and then drop a sheet on top of it and see what it does. Breastfeeding with a cover is like that, except there is a baby under that sheet that you shouldn’t can’t put in a crate.
There is a lot of thrashing. Arms and legs get tangled. (And sometimes the baby’s do, too.) I would always focus all my efforts into shielding the side of my body the baby was feeding from, only to realize too late that my other half felt unusually breezy.
So to all of the kind Texans who passed by me and got to know a stranger in ways you never wanted, I apologize. But I do want to thank you for not making me feel uncomfortable, and thank you for not staring.
At least, thank you for not staring too much. And I’m not talking to you, man in the bright yellow shirt who laughed when a stray stream of breast milk shot from under the cover. Yes, they can do that, and no, I do not enjoy being a human Super Soaker.
At the end of the day, a mom’s gotta do what a mom’s gotta do.
Carrie Taylor is a native Texan and mother of one.