The knitted tits trend alert
Breast is Best is a slogan that hits at the core of most mothers. But a funny story recounted by a pregnant friend recently revealed just how far society has gone in its breast fixation.
The instructor at her local hospital was very clear in his instruction to the mums-to-be in his class. Passing around the flesh coloured knitted objects he told them: "I want you to take two of these each ladies and place them on your chest."
Unravelling hers, Susan could hardly believer her eyes. She had been handed a pair of knitted tits complete with nipples to be placed over her real clothed ones. Arriving at the breastfeeding clinic and finding a man taking the session was weird enough but to then have to use a tea cosy with a pea on the end to learn the art of lactation was in her mind a step too far.
Since when did it become so politically incorrect to for an expectant mother to be shown how to do it with her own breast? And have we really become so P.C. that men can claim sexual discrimination when not allowed to educate women on their breasts? Imagine their faces if women started running "find your prostate" sessions with slide on knitted nob and bean bag balls? But of course that is a man's privates, whereas breasts are now public property, you only have to look at any news stand to see the media boob obsession. And by default breastfeeding is also a headline issue.Long ago breastfeeding was a private and individual choice for a mother. Now it has become a minefield for women, where giving it up after little success or choosing outright not to can attract hostile response from the pro-lactating brigade.
The pressure is so great to breastfeed from health authority sanctioned advertising and hospital "breast pals", that many women feel they have to carry on even if their boobs are cracked and bleeding, they are feeding non-stop on demand and they have lost all sense of time and sanity as they settle for their role of űber-udder.
I have a catalogue of my own breastfeeding horror stories: the lactation specialist in the hospital's suggestion I take my husband into the filthy communal bathroom to stimulate my breasts; the midwife grabbing hold of my nipple and squeezing without any consent given. And the feeling of complete and utter failure when I finally admitted to my health visitor it was too hard and the utter despair I put then myself through following her plan to keep me feeding: Wake up an hour before everyone else and express, then feed the baby, then express the rest and massage in preparation for the next feed. The fact that I was expressing less than one ml a day and my baby wasn't putting on weight was probably due to complete exhaustion. But hey it meant she could go back to her office job done, another woman kept breastfeeding, another tick for the campaign.
When with the support of dear hubby I took up the courage to stand up to the pressure and say out loud that formula wasn't the nasty evil and I would be giving it to my child (who then thrived!), I was met with large sighs from the Lactation Gestapo -as all health visitors were known in our household. Impossible, they sung in smug unison, when I asked about mixed feeding. Once the baby discovers the free-flowing teat, it will not go back to the nipple, they implored. Perhaps for some this is the case, but I was able to continue breastfeeding for over a year thanks to the regular bottle feeds and restful nights I was rewarded with.
For some women of course breastfeeding is a fulfilling role which they ease into and love, and it is mostly achieved with the right support. But that doesn't give anyone the right to look down their bare breast at those who cannot, will not or know not how to do it.
Let's hope that hospital staff will soon come to their senses and listen to what is best for the mum and her family as well as baby. As for the team of dutiful Scottish grannies churning them out for the expectant mums, there could be an alternative market for them. I can just see the trend catching on for tittie cosies for those mothers lactating in winter and fed up with reaching in under all the layers for the breast. Just let them hang free in and cover in the plain wool tit cosy for those looking for a bargain, cashmere bought for a special mum and alpaca for anyone living north of Watford
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