You might remember a little while ago that I mentioned a feminist mothers discussion group that myself and a very good friend of mine facilitate. And we love it. We meet monthly over a glass of wine, a plate of cheese and crackers, and hopefully a challenging discussion topic. We recruited by advertising through feminist publications and by handing out flyers anywhere we thought feminists might be congregating, like Reclaim the Night Rallies or Le Tigre gigs for instance.
Well, in the interests of this blog and that perpetual query that comes up in my Google search stats (and alright, mostly because one of the group members independently proposed the topic) we finally got around to discussing ‘sex and breastfeeding’. We talked about the stuff that has come up on this blog in relation to erotic breastfeeding – men’s erotic fantasies of breastfeeding, whether breastfeeding was a sensual or sexual sensation, the taboos etc, and as we built up trust in the group there were lots of shrieks of excitement and embarrassment and finally a confession.. one that spread across the group as one woman after another confessed to the same troubling breastfeeding secret.
And our secret is..
When we hear your little baby cry we have an urgent desire to pick your baby up and breastfeed it. We know there’s such a thing as boundaries. We know as feminist mothers that we’re supposed to be supporting you, the mother, and your management of the situation, you do know best, but a newborn baby’s cry rips our hearts out. And basically we all want to shove you aside, rip our bras open and feed that poor wailing baby.