Apologies (ahem) up front, this is my second post about boobies in as many weeks. It’s not that I’m fixated with my chest, it’s just busoms happen to be very topical right now. Especially with all the chatter about #brelfies last week.
Now, I’m a breastfeeding mum and not shy of taking a selfie (or many), as my Facebook friends are painfully aware of (sorry). But would I combine the two and post to all and sundry photos of me breastfeeding my child? Not on your nelly. Even if I could guarantee my nipples were carefully obscured out of shot and my cleavage was discreetly blurred through the magic of Instagraming.
The whole #brelfie craze is puzzling me. My anti stance is not a measure of my prudishness – I’m an avid practitioner of the get your boobs out wherever and whenever method. And, a few celebs got their boobies out to feed their children, wow-wee so what? It’s not even that I’m siding with the bottle feeders to claim this is unnecessary additional #bressure on new mums to feed via booby – I honestly don’t think the brelfie brigade are intentionally trying to inflict guilt on those that choose formula. I just find it strange how breastfeeding is being glamourised through this weird new competitive parenting trend. It all feels a bit “look at me, look at me, I’m breastfeeding so much nicer than you.” Yawn. Get over yourselves.
Breastfeeding your child is a wonderful, heart melting and amazing thing. At times. But it’s not ‘cool’. Not in my experience. In fact it sometimes makes you quite hot and bothered – juggling a wiggly baby and whipping out a boob is virtually impossible without some degree of fluster. It’s sometimes screamy – hungry babies are notoriously impatient. It’s on occasions messy – leaky boobs and sicky babies – ewwww. You sometimes have to wince through a feed due to cracked nipples and uninvited bites rather than gazing adoringly at your nuzzling babe. It’s sometimes a right royal faff. And when it comes to timing, well hungry babies have little respect for convenience. Yet you get nothing like this honesty from the rose-tinted, flattering soft focus of the #brelfie. That’s my issue with this very strange new craze. It’s all so fake. So artificially flawless. So manufactured. Which is exactly what we’re preached at (over and over) that feeding our babies shouldn’t be. Isn’t it?