On Being a Woman

Tonight I saw some commentary on DadSummit about a device that simulated breastfeeding.

I had some feelings.

My friend Doug French encouraged me to write. 

So here goes.

I have one child. She's fourteen. 

She's healthy and happy.

I only breastfed her for seven weeks, because that was the minimum my OB-GYN gave me for her health.

I hated breastfeeding.

Imagine, my men, what it would feel like to have a part of your body that you had always associated as a secondary sex charactaristic suddenly turned into your baby's only method of survival.

Someone suddenly told you that unless you gave up what you had always associated as part of your sexuality, your baby might die.

Welcome to being a woman.

I wasn't onboard.

I didn't like the feeling of satisfaction breastfeeding gave me. I considered that part of my sexuality.

I spent 45 minutes on each side trying to get three ounces of milk. My baby cried and fed constantly. I never slept. Every three hours, it started over again.

I moved to formula. La Leche League hated me.

That was 13 years ago. You guys, she's fine. This child has missed one day of school for illness in ninth grade, and that was due to a stomach virus. Thank God she had all her vaccinations, because don't get me started. 

And so I had a reaction tonight to a simulated breastfeeding scenario for men. I saw their comments as dismissive and resistive. I thought, you know, it must be really nice to be given a hard pass by society to feed a child with your bodily bluids. Cry me a river, men.

Seriously. 

I'm 45. I've had one pregnancy, one childbirth. I have suffered endometriosis, where part of my uterine blood escaped into other parts of my body. Yes, that's internal bleeding. I was cauterized at eighteen. I've woken up at night soaked in sweat. I've felt the rage that only comes from hormones. And through it all, I've shown up every single day at work. I've done everything a man can do, bleeding.

So to see men shirk away from a simualated breastfeeding exercise? Super pissed.

Why must we lose the hormones that makes us beautiful as part of the end of our childbirthing years?

Why must childbirth be the worst pain in recorded history?

Why must society make us feel that we are less than if we don't volunteer for that pain?

Why must we breastfeed when it's not necessary for human survival and it often causes pain for the women who do it?

Who has the right to guilt any women for how she chooses to ride out her own childbirth and parenting experience?

Doug challenged me to write about it, so here it is. I love you, men. I love you for all the things you have contributed to my life. I love you for building homes and fixing pipes and getting rid of stray animals. But I don't think that I'm going totally rogue to say when it comes to physical suffering, you have no idea.

You have no idea.

The woman in your life faces more pain on her crimson tide than you did when your broke your leg in third grade. I'm sorry, it's true.

I am here to tell you that being a woman hurts so much worse than your woman has ever shared with you, because we've been socialized to hide it.

I've had days where just my monthly cycle brought me to my knees. I can't begin to tell you about labor pains or bleeding nipples. Just don't ask. Just listen.

Don't question whether understanding what it's like to breastfeed might check your man card. 

Check whether you would ever qualify for a woman card. 

Seriously.