in tow, I did, occasionally, master the art of breastfeeding outside the comfort of my home—but it wasn’t as effortless or “natural”-feeling as social media leads you to believe., but being a big mom made me feel far more visible. I don’t know for certain if the stares I got were because I’m a big mom, or because I was breastfeeding—probably both. But I was so uncomfortable. If only people understood how hard I was fighting to make breastfeeding possible for my baby..
I’m used to being something—someone—people fear. So I smiled as I pre-boarded with the other families, balancing the baby, a giant diaper bag, and my trusty Boppy pillow. As quickly as I could, I squeezed my body down the aisle and into my window seat. After Braeden and I were situated, I did the thing I always do on planes: I prayed. I didn’t pray for a safe flight—I prayed for the middle seat to remain empty.
I tried not to notice the looks of relief on my fellow passengers’ faces as they passed my row to find their own seats, but I sure saw the businessman who arrived and sat in 4D, the aisle seat in my row. I considered it a small victory when the doors closed and the plane finally took off without anyone sitting in the middle seat separating us.
Just when I thought I could relax, Braeden started fussing. To my dismay, he wouldn’t take the pacifier. I could tell people were getting annoyed—especially the guy in 4D. I knew nursing could help with ear pressure during takeoffs and landings, so I reached into my diaper bag for my nursing cover.
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