One childless man's opinion on breastfeeding in public:
A huge issue among mothers is their freedom to feed their babies in public. In some locations, public breastfeeding has been banned, and in others, it's been welcomed with open arms (and mouths). The former have faced mothers who have banded together to bare a breast and nourish a child as a sign of solidarity and some type of squicky civil rights issue. The latter are celebrated as champions of the oppressed swollen-breasted mother. The one thing that all of these lactatistas ignore are the men, and to be honest, I'm fed up with it. I'll not presume to speak for anyone except myself. My opinion on women breastfeeding their hellspawn in a public setting can be summed up with four little words: It's creepy as hell.
In your average everyday setting, I'm a huge fan of boobs. They're sexy and round and awesome. They come in all shapes and sizes, and you never know what they're going to look like until you see them. I'm in the pro-boob camp all the way.
But then you start sucking the sexy and the awesome away. First, you have the pregnant women, and unless you're the spouse of said knocked-up fertile farm (and I even doubt it's true in most spousal situations, too), pregnant women are not sexy. Next comes the wailing, cooing, smelly baby. And babies aren't sexy either. Finally, we have lactation. And if there's anything that's going to remove the fun and awesomeness and sexiness from a boob, it's lactation.
So, when I see a woman who just spawned some hellion from her womb whip out a boob, and then her little creature gloms onto it like a remora, all of the awesome, cool, sexy things about boobs just fly right out the window. There is this total moment of clarity when I fully and truly comprehend the real purpose of a breast and it transforms from an exciting fun balloon that gives flight to fantasy to a deflated unhappy sac designed for nothing other than satiating the appetite of a mewling whiny infant. (And, while we're on the topic. What else do you know that latches onto human flesh and consumes their bodily fluids hungrily? You know what I'm talking about. Vampires.)
Once all of the fun leaves the boobosphere, the only thing left is the awkwardness. Oh hi there – you're just feeding your baby from your breast right in front of me. Where do I look? Do I try to look you in the eye? Do I look at the baby? Can I just turn around and look away? What ends up happening is much like when you know you have bad breath so you try to turn your face away from the person you're talking to, you'll end up staring at a corner why you try to have a conversation with someone who has a goddamn leech attached to their chest and is acting like it's the most perfectly sanely normal thing ever!
It's not. Sane, that is. There's a time for feeding your baby, and being near me is not that time. Neither is it when you're in public, at a pool, at the theater, on the dance floor, surfing, appearing before Congress, teaching a class, sitting in class, in a restaurant, or in any other location where anyone other than your immediate family can watch you get milked.
Don't bother trying to argue with me about this. I've already examined all of the sides of the discussion, and I know everything that the pro-breastfeeding brigade will say. "It's natural," they'll shout, stained blouses sparkling like cheap jewelry. They're right. Breastfeeding your brat is natural. You know what else is natural? Pooping. And I go into a bathroom to do that. With the door shut. I don't drop trou at the middle of the table or on the bus and leave a nice, natural, steaming load right there for everybody to ooh and ahh over while they appreciate the natural wonder of it all. Just because something is natural doesn't mean that it needs to be done in public. Shitting, pissing, fucking, crying, fighting, masturbating – all very natural acts, all of which should be done in the privacy behind closed doors.
"But it's a beautiful bond between the mother and the infant," they'll say defiantly, while their babies eye their oozing nipples with a compulsive stare. And so it may be. But do you know what would be more beautiful? Covering it with a fucking blanket. Then you and your baby can share that beautiful bond without me retching. If the act of having your child suckle your teat is such an emotionally charged amazing time of sharing and nurturing between you and your newly minted mini-you, why the hell would you want to ruin that by exposing it to the world? Much like a boy's special jerk-off sock or picture of his cousin three times removed in a bikini, it will have a much deeper and truer meaning to you if your interaction takes place under a sheet.
"The hell with you, misogynist," they'll exclaim while babies engorge themselves on once-sexy funbags, "they're our bodies and we can do whatever we want with them." I fully agree. I am a huge supporter of women's rights. I think that women should be able to do whatever they want with their bodies and I don't even think spouses should have a say. But. And this is a big but (although not quite as large as your post-partum posterior). Nothing makes your point less valid than hypocrisy. If you're okay with freeing your breast from that oppressive clothing so it can do the wonderfully natural act of feeding your new little marriage-saver, keep those puppies free before, during, and after babymaking. If your integrity means anything to you, go topless all of the time. Let's become a topless nation. Only when the lactating breasts are a small percentage of the unencumbered globus boobus population will the squicky factor reduce to as close to zero as possible. Plus, there would totally be world peace.
I would never say that a mother shouldn't breastfeed her child and enjoy and relish the bonding experience. I'm just saying that you shouldn't make the rest of us watch. Please.
