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Leche League Nazis

She was like impending doom watching me from the other side of the room. One of many of the parade members. They were all just letting themselves in. As hospital staff, they all have a purpose there. But something about her wolflike stare creeped me out. She had a true purpose. And it was breastfeeding.

The hospital has two fulltime gals for the specific purpose of coaching, training, and assisting with the new mothers with their breastfeeding “plan”. This isn’t just a job for them, they’re missionaries.

Their belief is a altruistic. That breastfed children enjoy many benefits to their health that they wouldn’t if they’re just on formula. Immunity, intelligence, security, and much much more. I don’t disagree.

What they also know is that having a baby is extremely scary and painful and breastfeeding only adds fuel to that scary fire. I found it messed with my head but good to know that this creature’s survival was dependent on something that came out of my body that I didn’t have conscious control over. And your nipples really really hurt, your breasts ache, and sometime you get this feeling like you want to peel the leech off of your personal space and go screaming off into the night.

Her Leche League leading self was trying to act calm during her first uninvited visit. She sat in the chair and asked if I had any questions. I knew she wanted me to show her my technique. And I wasn’t about to do that. Not for nobody. I’d read those pamphlets, watch videos, and talk to anyone but her. It was a proprietary conversation during which I happened to spill water on my newborns head. She didn’t crack a smile. Just stared at me with that lupine stare.  She creeped me out.

She showed up uninvited to my hospital room the next day (stalking me) during the exact moment when I began my breakdown from the constant flow of people showing up unannounced in my room to poke and prod me and the baby. I am sure she was still wanting a technique demonstration. And she got the bums rush with everyone else so I could relax for a few hours.

I am still breast feeding, not that it’s anyone’s business. It takes the patience and temperament of a saint. Honestly, selflessness isn’t any of our natural propensities. But we’re doing it. And we’re throwing down a couple of ounces of formula for good measure. At first to put weight on her. Now to get probiotics in her.

And don’t worry Breast Police, she is a nipple snob. She absolutely hates any rubber nipple in her mouth. Aren’t you happy? Keep doing what you’re doing if only because you have the children’s well being in mind. But I’ll hope not to meet you in a dark hospital alley any time soon.

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6 Responses to “Leche League Nazis”

  1. kathy says:

    Hell, I’d put my money on you, not her, any day. Love the message on the bib in the photo.

  2. Amanda says:

    Exactly why I didn’t have mine in a hospital. Love,
    The Homebirth Nazi

    I am totally kidding – I did have mine outside of the hospital – (not at home) – best experience of my life – and I would evangelize for that for many of the reasons you mention & more – if it weren’t for the whole “Mommy Wars” thing, my LEAST favorite part of parenting! La Leche League was always way too aggressive for my taste too. It’s like religion – intentions are good, but the message is almost always conveyed WAY too aggressively.

    Why can’t we all just SUPPORT each other?!?

  3. Nina says:

    Hi!
    I’ve been doing IT for seven months now.
    Selflessness,… Love that word.
    Several weeks or months ago my little boy decided to drink at night only. And now he has two little teeth.
    Good luck!!!!
    Nina

    • Shalagh says:

      So happy to see you here Nina. I love the use of the word “IT”. I intend to go only for 6 months. And hopefully avoid the teeth. Selflessness is exactly what this motherhood thing is about. But FUN is the other word. Because if you’re not having fun, you’re doing it wrong, as my husband is apt to say. I am amused by my little beasts enthusiasm for her meals. Thanks for being out there and reading.
      Love,
      Shalagh

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