Tell a friend about the
Militant Breastfeeding Cult

The sun bore down on me like a blinding, heavy blanket that made it diffficult at times to feed my young infant son. But while it was oppressive, the joy I had discovered nursing Baltasar outshined even the sky. Cheesy? Maybe. Honest? Definately.

Baltasar was only 4 weeks old when his father & I packed up the bare essentials & let behind everything else to move to Puerto Rico. Vince had family on the island & we figured we had nothing to lose: Philadelphia was freezing & bleak; I had just had my first child 7 weeks premature; no one around us seemed to understand what we felt. So what the heck! My mother hadn't a clue about breastfeeding, she went along agreeing with whatever I said only so I'd be happy, which really just frustrated me more. Friends all did formula, yet I told Vince from the day I knew I was with life that there's no other choice for me. I never doubted myself, my choice or my body's ability to nourish my child.

But in Puerto Rico, no one breastfeeds. The ones that have in the past were very elder and only did so for 2 or 3 months exclusivly. Vince's grandmother, with whom we first stayed, had no problem every day admonishing me for 1) feeding him so often, 2) resting all day with him, 3) not giving him water or rice water, etc. It was difficult to nurse under conditions where you are always being charged with a crime that doesn't exist. So I had called the States a few times to speak with a LLL & tried to ignore her shrieks of 'Oh my God- you're starving him!' And she had to tell everyone she knew or came in contact with how I was neglecting Baltasar. After all, she should know- she herself had 10 children! So what???

A month later, we got our own place in Ponce. Because of our relationship with her, we never got the house & property she promised. I never stopped nursing in front of her while we were there though. And I continued to feed him whenever he needed all over the island, although strangers constantly made comments or faces at the sight of a mother comforting her son.

Formula is the rule on the island and if you are different in any way, then you really stand out. I had more courage than I thought I had and would do the whole scene over again in a minute. If a skinny bright-white gal can breastfeed her son & be considered dangerous and her surroundings are full of tanned yet ignorant people and have her son be super healthy, than anyone can do it. As long as I have belief in the intelligence of my body & my child's body, then we can't fail. You really need to be in touch with yourself and listen closely to that voice that knows best. Even if that means you have to stand alone in a crowd to hear it.

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