It’s a tale as old as time, women judging women, mothers shaming mothers, people telling other people what to do with their bodies and lives. Lately, I have become better at blowing off rude comments or harsh criticism from others. As the great Rachel Hollis said in Girl, Wash Your Face, “Someone else’s opinion of you is none of your business.” I’m trying really hard to live by that. But, there is a specific kind of judgment that irks me to no end, and frankly, deserves some heat and a good blog post.

The other day I was at the grocery store purchasing formula for my twins. The cashier, noticing the $60 I just spent on two tiny cans of hypoallergenic formula asked, “is that formula better?” People often make comments about the formula we buy because of the hefty price tag, so I casually said, “well, my twins have sensitivities, so it’s better for their tummies.” To which she quickly responded, “oh well I breastfed.” I stared at her blankly for a moment expecting her to make some sort of point. When that never came, I calmly said, “breastfeeding didn’t work out for us.” To which this cashier matter-of-factly responded, “you should have eaten more soup.” For anyone who knows me, I’m quick witted and have a pretty sharp tongue.

I looked her dead in the eyes, with insincere shock spread across my face, “if only I had known that soup would have solved all of my breastfeeding problems!”

First, can we take a moment to ask ourselves why a cashier at the grocery store felt it was okay or somehow her duty to give me unsolicited breastfeeding advice? Also, if I had been able to breastfeed, do you think I would be dropping $30 a can on formula when my girls go through just one of those cans every two days? Lastly, soup? Soup? You guys, I cannot stop saying the word soup because my mind is still spinning, and I find it to be a ridiculous statement. What kind of soup? Was I supposed to be eating chicken noodle, but this entire time I’ve been eating tomato or cheese and broccoli? That’s obviously where I went wrong! Yes, I acknowledge that soup, along with 500 other possible remedies, could increase my milk production, but, that is not the only reason people choose not to breastfeed.

While this cashier was at home eating soup and successfully breastfeeding her baby, I was at home, in tears, having not slept in days, drinking my tea, eating lactation cookies, and rocking two crying infants, all while my pump sucked mere drops of milk from my nipples, until they were red, cracked, and bleeding. I felt like such a failure because I was unable to do the one thing society tells me I am supposed to do as a mother. Having to supplement with formula killed me to my core. Somehow I felt ashamed for feeding my babies because it wasn’t the “right kind of food.”

Formula instead of breastmilk? Well, I might as well have been feeding them poison.

When I had my first son, I was only 18 years old. Quite honestly breastfeeding was not something that interested me. The idea of being a mother was already a lot to deal with, so, if I’m being completely transparent, my focus was just to keep the kid alive! Side note, Shawn is now 12 years old, going on 30, and doing magnificently, despite my choice to not breastfeed.

When Slone came along over eight years later, I was determined to breastfeed him. I was older, wiser, and the benefits of breastfeeding were not lost on me. I took breastfeeding classes, obtained a pump from a friend (just in case), and read as much as I could about breastfeeding. When that little bundle of joy arrived, man, was I ready to nurse! Almost as soon as he was out, he was skin to skin, and we were practicing his latch. After two days in the hospital and multiple visits with the lactation consultant, I was still having an extreme amount of pain. She reassured me that his latch was perfect and it is supposed to be uncomfortable at first. I want to clarify that what I was experiencing was not just uncomfortable. Every time he would feed I was in tears, dreading the entire experience. I knew it would be a little painful at first, but something didn’t feel right. Nonetheless, they sent me home.

For two weeks I tried to get Slone to nurse. His latch did look pretty textbook, so I wasn’t sure what I was doing wrong. By this point my nipples were cracked and blistered, I had clogged milk ducts, and I had developed a bad case of mastitis. I reached out to a friend, who, as far as I was concerned, a total breastfeeding queen. After going over everything with her, she advised me to look in Slone’s mouth and check for a tongue and lip tie. I wasn’t one hundred percent positive but based off of what she described and a quick google, it did look like he had a lip and tongue tie. I made an appointment right away. They got me in a few days later, and sure enough, Slone had both. They referred us to an ENT, and in the meantime gave me some medication for the mastitis, and some suggestions to get the swelling down and my milk production up. They advised me to pump as often as possible in the hope I would get some relief. It was pure agony, and by the time we were able to get some real help, I was past my limit and had already thrown in the towel. And guess what? Everyone, including my son, was much happier!

When I got pregnant with the twins, I prepared myself in every way possible to ensure my babies would get all the breastmilk they needed. I bought breastfeeding books, nursing bras, ordered one of the best pumps on the market, nursing pillows, teas, supplements, you name it! I even let the doctor take me off of my depression medicine, the one that had finally been working for me. The medication I was on, while safe for pregnancy, was not recommended with nursing. I let them put me on one that was, even though I had tried it in the past and knew it didn’t work for me. Can anyone sense the disaster that’s coming? I would do anything because strangers told me that I should make sacrifices to breastfeed my babies.

I convinced myself it would be okay this time…

Quinn and Carter arrived vaginally just six minutes apart after 17 grueling hours of Pitocin, two failed epidurals, and invasive monitoring due to preeclampsia. Our girls were finally here, they were beautiful, and everything was perfect. And then, the hospital let us go home, with two infants. Almost from the start, our twins cried constantly. They would not sleep for more than an hour at a time, and rarely at the same time. They would not sleep unless we were holding or rocking them, and they would only sleep long enough for us to get the other twin back to sleep. My husband and I were getting three hours of broken sleep every single night, and it went on like that for the first couple of months. My postpartum depression was through the roof, and to be honest I think my husband was suffering from PPD too. Yes, ladies, that’s a thing!

To make matters worse, I was not producing enough milk, not even close. I couldn’t keep up with the demand of pumping, taking care of two newborns, a toddler, a preteen, a household, and myself. We were so exhausted, and my confidence as a mother was destroyed. Once again, I felt like a failure because my body could not feed my children the way that it was supposed to. But, something had to give, and I needed to go back on the depression medicine that worked!

My twins are now 10 months old, formula fed, and for the most part pretty happy kids. Looking back, I beat myself up for nothing. I wish, that instead of receiving constant questions and breastfeeding advice, that more people would have said, “your sanity is more important than how you choose to feed your babies. You cannot be a good mom if you aren’t taking care of yourself first.” Let me make something clear, it isn’t okay to ask someone if they are breastfeeding or formula feeding, because it’s none of your business. It’s not okay to ask someone why they aren’t or why they stopped breastfeeding, because, again, it’s none of your business. It’s also not okay to question a breastfeeding mother for her personal choices. This one is for the people who couldn’t hear me the first two times; IT IS NOT YOUR BUSINESS!

Women should be able to feed their babies, however, whenever, and wherever they choose to!

Some women don’t want to breastfeed, and that’s their prerogative. Perhaps it doesn’t suit their busy lifestyle, or perhaps it weirds them out, and that’s okay! Maybe that mom tried unsuccessfully for weeks, even months before the doctor said enough is enough. Some mothers have medical issues or are on long term medications that prevent them from being able to breastfeed safely. Then, you have mothers that are suffering so severely from postpartum depression, that they desperately need just one thing to be easy. Lastly, some mothers are comfortable with the level of nutrition that their babies receive from formula. After all, it’s 2019 and formula is a more than adequate nutritional option for growing babies.

As a society, we need to mind our own business and stop shaming each other all the time! We need to start supporting one another and reaching out a helping hand, rather than judging people. I guarantee you are not perfect and pretending like you’re better than someone else proves that you aren’t. I acknowledge that the cashier probably just thought she was being helpful, but it wasn’t her place. Sometimes it’s necessary to put yourself before others, even your children. Someone else does not get to decide what’s right for me or my family. The world does not own my body; I get to choose what does or does not happen to it. Society needs to back off, leave my breasts alone, and the rest of my body for that matter! The milk has been shut off, and these Tatas are officially closed for business!