I was fortunate that the people around me had nothing to say about my breastfeeding, it was a nonissue. I fed exclusively by breast, but not for lack of trying. I tried to pump, but I found the process challenging. I could never hook it up properly, and since I worked from home, I didn’t really need to, so I just breast fed, and it was for the most part uneventful, but occasionally it was comical.
One such time was a freezing cold snowy day in the dead of winter. I had miscalculated the nap wake up time, and we were a mere ten minute’s walk from our doorstep when my 2 month old woke up crying to be held and fed. I started jogging with the stroller as fast as I could in the puddles of slush. I withstood the agony of not attending to my wailing baby until I could take it no longer! Thankfully I was near a park, so I sat down, untied my hood and my parka, lifted my sweater and shirt, unclasped my bra, and exposed my breast to the bitter cold Canadian winter. I fed for a little bit, put my clothes back in place, and thought that surely my baby could wait a few minutes for their full top up until we got home, but no. I stopped again, this time on the side of a busy intersection, and undid my clothes again. I remember laughing at the site we must’ve been as the snow covered us fully, all except for a slurping mouth and a bare breast.