Here you go: Breastfeeding mom kicked off of plane. In this day and age? Please. Enough already. Please. Let us nurse and get the hell out of the way, would you? You’re distracting the baby.

My Granny told me a funny story about when she was in the hospital following the birth of one of her five kids. Another new mom shared her room and refused to nurse her baby. The doctor begged her to at least give it a try. She said no. He told her, exasperated, “That’s what they’re for, honey! They’re not there to make your dress hang right!” Heh heh. My Granny nursed all five of her babies, gave me breastfeeding advice with both of my babies, and was extremely supportive of me. Hallelujah, Granny. My mom, who was told by the doctors she “couldn’t” nurse, was amazed by my lactating talents. “I make milk. What’s your superpower?” (My motto.)

For real, the reason she “couldn’t” nurse was because the doctors told her “absolutely no nursing at night,” and put me on a four- to six-hour schedule during the day. Because, you know, you don’t want to spoil babies by feeding them. Christ almighty. So she got engorged and was miserable, I lost weight, and the doc told her she was a failure. My cousin told me, “The women in our family all have trouble breastfeeding, so don’t be surprised if you can’t.” Yeah, they had trouble because the doctors told them so. The grandmothers and great-aunties had no trouble at all — the “trouble” was specific to my mom’s generation.

We’ve come a long way, baby, no?

Here’s the comment I posted on the Moms Rising site:

Oh, memories… mammaries… I was nursing Wacky Girl on a flight (United, I think) when she was about a year old? So this was six years ago. I was in an aisle seat, toward the front of the plane, and the male flight attendant insisted on throwing a blanket over her. People were boarding the plane and he was offended. I so did not even care — my baby was hungry and freaked out.

I told him, “Sorry, she does not like being covered with a blanket.” She threw the blanket off; he put it back on; she threw it off. The third time he tried to cover her up again I told him, “Give up.” My husband smiled at him. On we flew.

I’ve never had any other problems nursing while we flew, and we fly a lot. (Other passengers glaring at me while my kids wail is more common. To them I say: “You think I’m happy with this? You think this is what I want?” and they leave us alone.)

Keep on feeding those babies, mamas.

Love,

Wacky Mommy