Shifting Power in the Lactation Experience

We continue to Evolve

Welcome back if you haven’t read in a while! Today I passed a milestone that is very meaningful to me. 500 of you are now subscribed to this Substack, and I could not be happier about this! Your support allows me to explore ideas and concepts in more depth than I ever could on other platforms, bringing my work into more alignment with my purpose and mission.

Like milk production, Evolve Lactation is a process, and I am continually thrilled at how this community guides it. Your feedback and support are a vital piece of what this Substack is for me, and I appreciate every Like, Share, and Subscribe. They mean that people are interested in what I have to say about modern lactation.

I’d love it if if you shared this with another friend or colleague!

With all of that in mind, a poll for you:

Thank you in advance for your votes - check back for the results on Monday!

On my mind lately -

Last week I replied to a post on Instagram because it spoke to me. My longtime readers will likely recall my origin story, which I’ve shared here.

There’s more to it, and I shared that in my reply. Here’s THAT part of the story.

Following a traumatic and truly barbaric period of labor for my mother in a TEACHING hospital, I was born via cesarean in 1974, my parents’ first child as well as the first grandchild on both sides of the family.

This surgical intervention happened when it did because a patron/donor of the hospital, who happened to be acquainted with my parents, came by to check on my mom’s progress, and, mortified at the length of time my mother had been suffering, facilitated a change in her care. {Friend of the family used her power, derived from money, to make change and advocate for a woman}

(My father was, as was the custom at the time, relegated to a waiting room, unable to help his wife through labor nor to witness or participate in my birth. My grandparents also sat idly by in the waiting room, worrying and praying for a healthy outcome for both my mother and I.) {Rendered powerless by a system}

I was not breastfed because I was taken from my mother at birth to the “Suspect Nursery” (yes, that’s really what they called it!) for observation due to the excessively long labor and surgical birth. My mother asked for me repeatedly and did not sleep until she saw me. (She also insisted that a mirror be placed where she could watch me being born AND insisted they put her eyeglasses back on her face during the surgery so she could see it all.) {Used her power to advocate for herself in ways that felt important, despite being in a physiological state that limits emotional and physical energy and resources}

I was not even shown to her for nearly a full 24 hours, and by then, the doctor had given her a shot to dry up her milk, informed consent being something unheard of at the time. {Power removed by a medical “authority”}

Fortunately, despite all of this, my entry into the world, stressful though it may have been, brought joy to the whole family and I was loved and cared for without limit.

3 years after my birth my mother fought an uphill battle to nurse her twins (of course they were a surprise in the delivery room because there weren’t routine ultrasounds then!), and she did it. Literally everyone in the medical realm told her she couldn’t and that she shouldn’t even try, so she found a friend who was in La Leche League and nursed her babies in front of my mother so she could learn, and she found a pediatrician who was willing to not only support, but facilitate her to breastfeed the twins. {Used her power to advocate for herself}

That’s the story I grew up with, the pain and grief of her experience with me, and the fight and struggle later with my sisters. It’s the story she told, the story that stuck with her about early motherhood, and it shaped her self-identity as a mother in confusing and conflicting ways.

What is important to note here is that overcoming struggle, while sometimes empowering, does not erase or minimize the impact of the challenge. One can emerge from a battle glad of the victory yet still scarred in ways that persist. {I generally avoid military-type analogies when talking about lactation; this is an intentional use as a way to illustrate a critical point.}

Like me, you are probably accustomed to watching the breastfeeding grief of a grandmother, auntie, or other loving relative unfold as they watch the mother in your care learn to navigate breastfeeding and lactation. This was part of my own breastfeeding journey as well - leaving space for my mom to experience her feelings as she walked with me in my earliest days of motherhood.

With deep respect, I can assure you that my mother took her mothering seriously, and she turned her challenging personal experiences into a reason to unconditionally support and advocate for me and my siblings’ rights in our birth and lactation opportunities. {Reclaimed her power and turned it toward advocating for others}

Nearly 50 years later, our field is still fighting alongside new mothers & parents for the birth and lactation support they deserve. {Using our knowledge and privilege to advocate for others}

They are ALL why we do this work. Our relatives and our clients, our own babies and our future grandchildren. Those who came before and those who have yet to be born.

In all of the weeks of National Breastfeeding Month which are dedicated to cultures and populations, we are reminded of the importance of story to what we do. Keep the stories flowing, and we will keep the milk flowing for the generations to come. This is our power and how we will pass it on.