No one Judges a Mother like Another Woman

When the baby was six weeks old, I had an appointment with the pediatrician. She asked me about the baby: the sleep, the breastfeeding. I told her I had stopped nursing, that I was pumping my milk instead, and that I was thinking about stopping breastfeeding altogether. She looked at me, horrified, almost petrified. She asked me to take off my blouse and show her how I positioned the baby when breastfeeding. Then she gave me a lecture about how crucial it was to give my milk to my baby. I was honestly upset, because I wasn't expecting to be judged for something I was struggling to do. I know it's better for the baby to have my milk, but I couldn't do it. I tried many times, and I couldn't keep my nipple in the baby's mouth. She gave me a list of classes and moms' groups, so I could talk to other moms about wanting to give up feeding my newborn. How could she sum up my feelings, my situation, which was already a lot, in those terms? I already felt guilty for not managing to bring diapers, wipes, cream, and everything else when I went out, because that's another thing I've been judged for. One day I took too much stuff, the next day not enough. Another day I was too attentive to my baby's needs, jumping to cuddle them the moment I heard a sob. The toys shouldn't be plastic. The baby has to sleep on their back. They must sleep in my bed. They can't sleep in their own room until they turn three. Don't take a bath with them. Start putting the baby on the floor at five months, no, seven months, or maybe seventeen weeks exactly. Don't introduce nuts, but introduce eggs. Don't give them fruit. Look for organic food. Let them reach for their bottle themselves. And so much other advices I didn't need to hear!