This first bit is actually paraphrased from a story told me years ago by
Jeanne Brotherton of Bellingham, and I have cherished it ever since.

You know your family has resigned themselves to their fate when your
teenagers don't die a thousand deaths when you are in a public place with
them and get a call for help on your cell phone, and you start
'demonstrating' manual expression while explaining it to the desperate
mother on the other end...

And this, from a friend in my local BF mothers' group:
When your children continue eating dinner as you take a call, asking you on
your return what it was, and you tell them it was a mother who didn't think
she had enough milk, and they say 'Right, so, you just told her to feed the
baby more often, huh?'

And this, a true story from my own life: My adolescent son nodding and
smiling politely at the mother with her five year old son who as an infant
was the slowest starter I had ever worked with up to that time, who stopped
us on the street so the five year old could say thanks to 'the lady who
helped us have all those happy years of breastfeeding!'  

And the same son, phoning home from where he is at university to tell me of
a Sunday walk he took with two other students, during which they saw a small
child in a stroller with a feeding bottle complete with teat, filled with a
sweetened artificially flavored drink, and 'You would have been proud of
these friends of mine, they were ready to call Child Protection because
"that child should be getting breastmilk!" '

Rachel Myr
Kristiansand, Norway

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