Cancer Survivor Still Hassled About Not Breastfeeding
Guys guys guys. I think it’s safe to say we’ve reached a critical mass of ludicrousness when a woman who cannot breastfeed DUE TO A DOUBLE MASTECTOMY still can’t dodge the heat of the breastfeeding brigade, intent to force breastmilk on her child or lecture her about how wrong she is.
Such was the case for the awesomely named Emily Wax-Thibodeaux, a writer at the Washington Post who recently wrote an essay and follow-up companion piece about her reasons for not breastfeeding, and the subsequent navigating of the landmines of shame involved in having to justify herself to every Tom Dick and Harry who felt entitled to know why, or emboldened to drop some knowledge on her about what a disservice she was doing to her baby.
In her first piece, “Why I Don’t Breastfeed, If You Must Know,” she recounts the relentless chorus of judgment she got for feeding her baby formula, from the insistence from another mother at yoga that “breastfeeding is optimal,” to a male friend of her husband’s remarking, ” So you’re not breast-feeding? It’s better you know?”
Oh, she knew. Suffice to say we all know. But the more important issue is what everyone else doesn’t know, apparently — that the decision to breastfeed or not is a deeply personal one. It’s one thing to encourage breastfeeding for its benefits, cost-effectiveness, and bonding and make sure all expecting or new mothers have access to information about the benefits and sacrifices therein and every resource they could need. It’s quite another to anoint everyone on earth as a personal ambassador for breastfeeding, especially those without any idea about the particulars of the person they are proselytizing to. Women got reasons, dig?
Wax-Thibodeaux had a reason. Not that she needed one! “Not for me” would suffice. But she had one. She’d been diagnosed with breast cancer at 32 and had a double mastectomy. After five years on anti-cancer drugs, and two rounds of IVF, she got pregnant. She would feed her son formula, a decision she was more than at peace with — until the lactation consultants made the rounds, advised her that she “really should” nurse her baby, and wouldn’t leave it alone when she said she was going to go the formula route.
“I can’t. I had breast cancer,” I said, looking down at Lincoln and stating proudly: “But I’m just so happy to be alive and be a mother after cancer.”
Silence.
“Just try,” they advised. “Let’s hope you get some milk.”
“It may come out anyway, or through your armpits,” another advised later when I was doing the usual post-labor, slow-recovery walk through the hospital halls.
Successfully scolded, Wax-Thibodeaux turned to her breast surgeon, Shawna Willey, who explained to her that the whole goal of the surgery she’d had was to remove all the breast tissue possible, which meant no milk production:
Willey added, “I think that women who have made the difficult decision to have bilateral mastectomies have already grieved the loss of not being able to breast-feed. No group should make a woman feel guilty about the decisions she made . . . or make her feel inadequate about not being able to lactate.”
But guilt and inadequacy plague many women who learn they can’t breastfeed for one reason or another, or who successfully nurse for a few days, weeks, or months, only to find the milk has dried up. In a private Facebook group for moms in Los Angeles I frequent, I see numerous posts a month about women who are loathe to resign themselves to formula, as if it is the equivalent of giving their infant soda. They consistently report extreme guilt, sadness and heartbreak.
A recent such post read:
Hi mommies. I need some support/suggestions. I have to stop breastfeeding for medical reasons and my LO is only 7 months old. I am feeling super sad and guilty. Anyone have any advice on how to help with drying up my milk supply?
A commenter replied: