Breastfeeding is a really individual experience. Even at its apex (and I had an easy time breastfeeding my babies), it is messy and time-consuming. It's worth acknowledging that there can be complications, pain, infection, et cetera. On the other hand, it can also be any number of really lovely things, too. For me, I missed being pregnant, and breastfeeding was a way of extending that intimacy; it eased our separation. I felt a lot of power (in a good way) knowing that my body continued to feed my babies' bodies. And it gave me an excuse to sit down.
I'm sure every mother would have a unique story.
What strikes me most while reading Kerry's piece, though, is that it seems these camps exist because of a fundamental cultural insecurity about motherhood. All of us secretly wondering: have we chosen right, are we doing the right thing, and therefore demanding affirmation, and needing to squash or belittle all alternatives. If we believed in our own instincts, maybe there would be less judgement all around; at the very least, we'd be more impervious to it.
