Last Saturday, we had paid the total and the lover me. Sleeping up to 8 h 30 (we have a baby of four months, I remind you, then 8 h 30 is really a lie) and lunch at the restaurant without the big girls in the legs, parts for the week weekend with their grandmother.
A nice leisurely breakfast then. Read the newspaper and commenting on various news of the day. In complaining about the frozen strawberries and many bad on my waffle. To laugh at Sam-Sam who has just discovered his voice and yells, but screams endlessly.
A beautiful moment. Not stressful for two pennies. Relax.
Basically the restaurant completely, I see a friend who as a baby's age Sam is also in love with her. They seem to have much pleasure all three. Looks like a layer of our table!
But now, her little man began to stir. Her smile gave way to a grimace. It's lunch time for him too clearly.
I see the friend who is preparing to breastfeed. She enters her hand into her shirt to undo the buckle of her bra. She places her baby on her thighs and comes to meet her sweater ... But at the last moment she decides not to do at the table. She gets up with his little chicken in his arms and takes the lead ... toilets!
I was heartbroken. I was sad because my friend who has decided to offer the best for her baby, is reduced by embarrassment or shame, to take refuge behind closed doors to feed her offspring. In his lovely lunch break with her boyfriend. Worse
you think it means to nurse sitting on the bowl, there are more sexy occupation?
I do not judge this mother's decision not to feed her child in public. It's her choice and what are her breasts to her.
What breaks my heart, is the lack of openness about many things. It is clear that if everyone had kept their eye on their egg-bacon-potatoes-mirror, little would have been the breast in the mouth and nobody would have made the event.
But then, this is not the case. Breastfeeding is a common practice, but some mothers dare do in public, it is surprising. And that bothers most people who do not know anything.
I'm on my third lactation. It's been more than it annoys me to breastfeed on a bench at the Carrefour de l'Estrie or before the stepfather. But whenever I do, I can not believe the number of ailments that I cause. The amount of people who approach me to watch very closely what I am doing and then throw me one of those looks monstrous disapproval.
Rest assured, when it's time for lunch from Sam, I keep a lot more than my underwear on the back. I'm like all the other girls on earth: I am fat and ugly and I do not want strangers to scrutinize closely the stretch marks that my pregnancy has left on my memory-terrestrial globe who refuses to return my jeans before. In short, I'm discreet.
But although Sam is hidden under a blanket. Even if we had a microscope powerful as those from NASA to find a centimeter of skin. Although a bit to see my breast, he would pass me by an X-ray, it irritates to know that there, under the blanket, there is a baby suckling a breast.
So I guess my friend did not want to face those eyes filled with indignation and that rather than enjoying this beautiful Saturday morning with her family, she did her job as a mom in the outhouse.
Sad same.
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