Introducing the #FacesOfFormula Project.
Because it’s okay to feel grateful for formula.
Introducing the #FacesOfFormula Project.
Because it’s okay to feel grateful for formula.
For obvious reasons, I get excited whenever the media takes notice of how formula feeding parents are feeling.
That’s what happened yesterday, when the media (and my email, Twitter and Facebook feed) exploded with the news of a new campaign meant to fight back against breastfeeding pressure, using the hashtag “#bressure”. When I first read the articles about the movement, I noticed the positive (attention to the experience of “failing” to meet breastfeeding recommendations) and ignored the references to the “brelfies”, breastfeeding photos which apparently spurred the campaign in the first place. I even sent a letter to the creators, praising them and asking if the FFF community could contribute in some way.
But as the day wore on, red flags started popping up. First, a fellow blogger alerted me to the fact that the survey conducted by the Bressure movement alluded to breastfeeding selfies as “sexualized”. Then, every single article I read focused on how these (apparently sexualized) “brelfies” were directly causing pain and suffering to bottle feeders. Instead of talking about the systemic issues that create a cycle of guilt, fear, and competition, we were once again dragging the conversation down into the mommy-war gutter, pitting woman against woman, and continuing the seemingly endless divide between breastfeeding and formula feeding moms.
This is not progress.
I’ve run a modestly large international community of formula feeding parents for the past six years, and I know several truths:
1. Formula feeders are a diverse group, just as breastfeeders are a diverse group. There are militant, intolerant formula feeding parents who truly do believe that women shouldn’t breastfeed in public, just as there are militant, intolerant breastfeeding mothers who believe formula feeders are selfish, ignorant, and useless. I wish we could vote them all off the island, but alas, such is life. The problem is that we’re letting these factions monopolize the conversation. This is EXACTLY why we started #ISupportYou, to which there was a rather vocal backlash from the intolerant/militant faction, on both sides.
2. The media loves drama. It is so much more fun to blame “brelfies” for the pain we formula feeders endure, because then the extremists come out of the woodwork and create mile-long comment sections, boosting your traffic for the next few days. It is also easier to get inflammatory quotes when nuance is ignored. Nuance doesn’t get web traffic or media attention. Trust me on that one; I speak from experience.
3. Seeing breastfeeding photos is undeniably difficult for those of us who wanted to breastfeed and couldn’t, or feel conflicted about our choices. When we’re feeling vulnerable and judged, it can definitely feel like that model/celeb/Facebook friend’s breastfeeding selfie is intentionally meant to twist the knife a little deeper. But that shouldn’t stop a mom from posting a breastfeeding photo, any more than you should refrain from posting a shot of your newborn when your second cousin is struggling with fertility issues. Both of you have the right to your feelings – your pride, her grief. (That said, there’s the social media-era problem with all of us comparing ourselves to others, posting things we’d never say to someone’s face, and basically acting like insensitive jerks every time we hit “post”.)
4. The breastfeeding selfies themselves are not the problem, but the “#breastisbest #breastfeedingmomsrule #whatsyoursuperpower hashtags can be construed as an attack on formula feeding moms. That’s not me telling you to stop doing them, just explaining why the photos might hurt your best friend who switched to formula three weeks ago. That is not me telling you that the cause of normalizing breastfeeding isn’t important, just explaining why there might be better ways to achieve the same goals without adding to the conflict. Just like this latest “bressure” video series could have had a hugely positive impact, if the impetus behind it didn’t sound like bitterness and jealousy and a who-has-it-worse competition.
5. There’s enough anger, misunderstanding, and generalization on both sides of this debate to fill several football stadiums. When the media chooses to focus on something trivial (“brelfies” – for the love of god, who though of that term) instead of the real issues, we all lose. Personally, it makes me feel like I might as well jump in my DeLorean and head back to 2008, because what the hell have I wasted the past 6 years of my life on?
6. The top reasons that formula feeders are angry, based on my totally unscientific, not-peer-reviewed but at least peer-collected research, are the following:
We are made to feel like inferior mothers by medical professionals, websites, fellow moms, lactation consultants, mommy-and-me group leaders, and the media.
We get no guidance or education on bottle feeding from professionals, and when we seek it out, we get conflicting info peppered with constant reminders of why we really should be breastfeeding, so why even bother attempting to find the best type of formula, since they’re all crap, anyway?
The reasons that breastfeeding advocates and the media give for us “failing” to meet their recommendations are so far from our lived realities, it’s hard to believe we exist in the same dimension.
Everything having to do with babies these days – from conferences to books to radio shows – focuses on breastfeeding. If bottle feeding is mentioned, it’s typically in the context of Things To Avoid At All Costs Unless You Really Have to Go Back to Work In Which Case You Should Just Pump or At Absolute Worst Use Donor Milk.
Yes, there are many breastfeeding advocates who come to troll on our pages and provoke our anger. And yes, there are formula feeders who will do the same on breastfeeding pages. Ignore these people. They do not matter. There are more of us middle-ground, moderate folks than there are of them.
While mom-to-mom cruelty is certainly a part of the problem, we know that there’s a much larger battle to fight – the battle of scientific illiteracy and paternalistic advocate-physician/researchers who are blinded by a religious belief in breastfeeding. If the bullies didn’t have certain unnamed, infamous physicians leading their charge – people who encourage the shaming and ridiculing of formula feeding parents – they wouldn’t have so much power. If society had a better understanding of the reality of infant feeding research, and could acknowledge that correlation and causation are two different animals, it would take away the fear and guilt, on ALL sides.
We just want to be equal with you. Not better. We’re not even asking you to think that formula and breastmilk are equal – that’s a question of science, of risk/benefit analysis, and individual circumstance. All we are asking is that we do not equate the type of liquid going into our children’s bellies with how much we love them, or how bonded we are with them, or how strong/capable/dedicated we are as parents.
This is not about photos. This is not about who has it worse. This is not even about breastfeeding and formula feeding, anymore. It’s about how we view motherhood as a competition, how the powers that be monopolize on this competition, and how the media loves to encourage it. Instead of focusing on brelfies or bressure, let’s get the hell off Instagram and start making an impact in our own communities, with our own friends and fellow parents. Ignore the hype, and focus on the help.
A picture tells a thousand words. But they don’t have to be negative ones.
I took FC to the park this morning. While he ran off to collect sticks with a few of his friends, I chatted with another mom, who’d just had her second child 8 weeks ago.
I certainly didn’t bring up feeding (I never do). But it came up anyway (as it always does). She mentioned that breastfeeding had been a bit challenging, and I listened for awhile before casually mentioning that this was “sort of what I do.” That opened the floodgates, and she began telling me a story which would make a perfect contribution to FFF Fridays.
After we talked about it for awhile, she said that it was really nice to hear that what she was doing was okay (supplementing) and that she was right to prioritize her mental health. Apparently, the nurses and lactation support staff she’d encountered thus far had made her feel the opposite. “Even when I tell other moms, they just tell me to ‘keep going’,” she said with a sigh. She knew they meant well, but at the moment, that wasn’t the type of support she needed.
It was only a brief encounter, but it was the perfect end to #ISYWeek, for me. It felt really good to know that I truly supported another mom today – a stranger – in a way that made a difference. It wasn’t a big deal, and it certainly wasn’t newsworthy. It’s not even something worth blogging about, really. But that, I think, is what we’re lacking right now – these face-to-face, tiny moments of true support, of building each other up and making sure each of us is being heard, is being seen. True, individual, basic support, free of parenting politics, free of drama. That’s what Kim and I wanted to achieve with #ISupportYou. And today, I felt like I did achieve that, if only for 5 minutes, if only with one person.
I chose Elizabeth’s FFF Friday story to close out I Support You Week, because even in her attempt to exorcise her own feeding demons, she’s thinking about other moms. She’s thinking about the women who may need what she needed. That means so much, especially in the bottle feeding community, because we haven’t really had a community – but I’d like to think that’s finally changing. I am so grateful that Elizabeth got the support she needed, and even more grateful to her for paying it forward. I hope we can all do the same, so that our voices are heard by those desperate to hear them.
Happy Friday, fearless ones,
When I was pregnant with my first son, and people asked me if I planned on breastfeeding (which, in hind sight, was such a personal and nosy question, but I got asked it a lot!), I genuinely answered “I’m going to try, and if it works it works, and if it doesn’t that’s okay.” My dad is an obstetrician, and I had heard him caution several times that he felt that expectant moms who set too stringent of plans for themselves were more likely to fall prey to post-partum depression and anxiety when things didn’t go according to plan — such as having the birth proceed in a particular fashion, or being absolute about breastfeeding (as an aside, he was not at all saying that these were the only reasons that a new mom might suffer from post-partum depression, just that he saw an increased incidence when rigid expectations were set, and then reality fell short of meeting these expectations). So I really believed that I would give breastfeeding a shot, and if it worked, great! And if it didn’t, we would use formula, which would also be great!
For the first several weeks, breastfeeding went well. Sure, there were some early hiccups with figuring out the latch and a little discomfort. And, I never was very comfortable with feeding my baby in public (a self-imposed self-consciousness). But my baby was thriving, and that’s all that mattered.
After about a month, though, I noticed that in the evenings my baby was wanting to nurse constantly. I understood this to be normal cluster feeding. Except that my baby was getting angry, and I realized that he just wasn’t getting as much milk as he wanted or needed. I spoke to a lactation consultant, who told me that my supply would catch up in a few days. Except that it didn’t — the evenings just got worse. I continued to speak to lactation consultants, and constantly ended the conversations feeling like I was doing something wrong — if nursing wasn’t working, then it was clearly due to some error or omission on my part, because nursing was “natural” and it’s “not that common for a mom to not produce enough milk.” There were a number of things going on that, in hindsight, probably affected my supply — I got a horrible cold around this time, my husband was recuperating from knee surgery and wasn’t mobile which added to an already busy, stressful, and sleepless time, and my gallbladder started to act up — so I was in a fair amount of pain (and ultimately had to have surgery myself).
Despite the chastising from the lactation consultants that I should just try harder (not the exact words, but that’s how it sounded to me), we decided that my husband would feed our son a bottle of formula at bedtime while I pumped. We were all happy with the situation — my son had a full belly and stopped fussing as much, and my husband really came to enjoy the bonding time he had with our son every night. And while I didn’t love pumping, I was happy that my son seemed to be happier.
Then I went back to work. My plan was that I would breastfeed first thing in the morning, pump at work, breastfeed when we first got home in the evening, and my husband would give my son a bottle before bed (while I pumped again). My son, however, had other plans — once he started having bottles all day while I was at work, he had absolutely no interest in nursing. So rather quickly, he became exclusively bottle fed. I figured I would still pump, and supplement with formula when needed. Great plan, right?
Except that it wasn’t. My body did not respond well to pumping at all, and my supply immediately started to dwindle. I started talking to lactation consultants again and researching online how to increase my supply. Despite my early “laid back” approach to breastfeeding that I would try, but not stress about it, I became obsessed with my supply. I ate the oatmeal, I took the fenugreek, I drank the herbal tea, I had a Guinness at night…I tried everything. All the while, I was pumping more and more every day, and producing less and less. I was getting jealous of my husband’s bedtime routine with my son, because I felt like I was just chained to the pump while he got to spend quality time with our baby. My work began to suffer because of all the time I was devoting to pumping during the workday (I will note, my job never hassled me about the time I spent pumping, but I knew it was affecting my ability to be efficient and meet deadlines). On the weekends, time with family and friends was interrupted by my fixation on scheduling pumping breaks. My life revolved around the pump — and constant thoughts that I clearly just wasn’t trying hard enough.
I blame my obsession largely to the messages I was receiving while trying to increase my supply. A lactation consultant told me that I should consider pumping as a gift to my child and should keep trying; a message board commenter noted that my resentment of pumping was “selfish” because it was what was best for my son. Websites devoted to breastfeeding made it seem like formula was poison, and that if I was a good mom, I would figure out how to continue to provide breastmilk. Even the back of the formula canister stated that breastmilk was best. Everywhere I turned, I was made to feel like I was failing my son, and failing as a woman and a mom — after all, wasn’t producing milk perfectly natural? And so my obsession continued. I think this had nothing to do with what I personally thought about formula, and more about societal pressure to breastfeed.
By the time my son was nearly five months old, I was pumping for at least three hours a day, and sometimes not even producing enough for one bottle — TOTAL. Around this time, I had the opportunity to take my baby with me for a long weekend to visit my brother and sister-in-law. I had unloaded everything from the car but my pump (I really resented that thing, so I don’t think that was accidental!). It was nearing time to pump, and as I got ready to return to the car to get the pump, I shared my frustrating experience with my lovely sister-in-law, who also happens to be a pediatrician. I hadn’t said anything to her before, because I just assumed she would tell me “breast is best” and tell me to keep trying. But instead, she looked me in the eyes and said very simply “It’s okay to stop. You are a good mom.” And I just started to cry — I so badly needed someone to give me permission to stop pumping (and obsessing), and to tell me that I wasn’t a failure. I never got the pump out of the car that weekend, and it was so liberating and freeing to actually spend quality time with my son, and to feed him his bottles (instead of handing him off to someone so I could pump), and to just be.
I just welcomed a second son to the world about four months ago, and I was very nervous about how I would feel about feeding him this time. I decided to give breastfeeding a shot again, but am trying to be very aware of not letting myself cycle down into obsession and depression if it doesn’t work out. So far, it’s been just fine. I am back at work, but my son still choses to nurse when I’m around (in fact, he has the opposite problem of his older brother — he refuses a bottle if he senses that I am in a ten mile radius of him!). Pumping is going okay, but I also supplement some with formula. When I pump, and feel those anxious feelings return if I don’t have a great session, I gently remind myself that it’s okay. And I have promised myself that if I am not producing a good amount of milk through pumping, I am going to stop – I will not make myself jump through all those hurdles like I did before, because it negatively impacts my sanity, and in turn, negatively impacts my relationship with my children. The best thing I did for my relationship with my first son was to turn exclusively to formula, and I will not hesitate to do it again with my second.
This is long, but it is cathartic to write it all out (I have tears running down my face as I type). I’ve carried around the guilt and anxiety of my experience with breast feeding my first son for too long. Even as a currently-breastfeeding mom, I still bristle when I read or hear “breast is best.” Because while breast is best for some moms, it’s not best for others, and feeling shame, anxiety, and frustration over how to feed a baby is not stress that a new mom needs. What I also hope is that if anyone reading this is a new mom, and my story resonates sounds at all familiar, you will listen when I tell you that it’s okay to stop. It’s okay to switch to formula. As silly as it sounds now, I needed someone to give me permission. My angel of a sister-in-law did that for me, and it was such needed relief. She freed me from a vicious emotional downward spiral that impacted just not me, but also my son and my husband. And so, if you need that permission like I did, please let me give it to you:
It’s okay to stop. You are a good mom.
Want to share your story or thoughts? Email me at email@example.com and join the FFF Friday community.
The following guest post was written by Maria Elena Piña-Fonti, President of the National Association of Hispanic Nurses—NY Chapter, in honor of #ISupportYou Week. I was thrilled she wanted to contribute something, as nurses play an integral part in ensuring that new parents and their infants get the healthiest start possible, while respecting the need for autonomy and an individual approach to care. I hope more health care providers will join Maria in celebrating ISY Week, by helping new parents understand their rights, offering education in a culturally sensitive manner, and showing the world the true meaning of “informed choice”.
Infant Nutrition and Self-Advocacy
by Maria Elena Piña-Fonti, MA, RN
As a nurse, I come in contact with parents from all walks of life. First-time parents, experienced parents, confident parents, and sometime confused parents. What I tell parents—both the mothers and the fathers—is that it is important to have as much information as possible about all types of infant nutrition in order to make an educated, confident decision about what is best for your family.
Exclusive breastfeeding, formula feeding, and combination feeding are all safe ways to feed an infant. Parents are given a lot of information, advice, and opinions, on caring for their children—especially when it comes to infant nutrition. But how mothers and fathers feed their baby is a personal decision, one that can be influenced by many factors such as medical issues and returning to work.
As parents, once you make an informed decision about how to nourish your baby, you—and your choices—should be respected and supported.
You are your own—and your baby’s—best advocates to ensure that you have access to all the information and support you need to be successful parents and to raise healthy and happy children. You should feel comfortable with your choices and confident and empowered that you know best what is right for your own family.
The following are some helpful tips to help advocate for you and your baby:
1. Speak up. You and your healthcare providers are a team working together for the health and well-being of your baby. You should always feel like a valued and respected member of this team. Don’t be afraid to ask questions about your choices and preferences.
2. Be open and honest. Share with your healthcare provider any concerns regarding health conditions or employment that may impact breastfeeding, formula feeding, or a combination of the two. They can only help you if they know the complete picture.
3. Make your needs and wishes known and respected by your network, family, and friends. Once you’ve made up your mind, make it clear that you have considered all of the information and are comfortable with your decision. Ask for their support of your decision.
4. It’s okay to change your mind. If your feeding plan is not going as you wished, it’s alright to change your plan. Don’t be upset. You have not failed. Remember the importance of closeness and touch to a baby.
5. Get answers and information. Your healthcare provider should fully support you and can refer you to resources you may need in making the best decisions for you, your baby, and your family.
Nobody knows the needs of you, your baby, or your family better than you do!
What parents need most is support, not shame or judgment. #ISupportYou parents who breastfeed, #ISupportYou parents who formula feed, #ISupportYou parents who combination feed. No matter how you feed your babies, #ISupportYou.
Maria Elena Piña-Fonti is President of the National Association of Hispanic Nurses—NY Chapter, an association dedicated to community advocacy and well being, which believes parental engagement, education, and choice is essential to parental empowerment.
Usually, I’m all over the place this week. Getting quoted in the requisite “it may be breastfeeding week but gosh darnit some women still find exclusive breastfeeding super hard” articles. Posting my own stuff here on the blog, or over on HuffPo. Talking about #ISupportYou and pissing off hundreds of people in the process, because they see it as a veiled attempt to “steal the thunder” from World Breastfeeding Week.
But this year, I’m all but invisible.
Part of this was unintentional. I’ve been going through some stressful career-change mishigas, dealing with the inevitable gaps in childcare that occur between camp and school, entertaining a ridiculous number of visiting extended family members. I’ve been too exhausted to blog, or talk to media sources, or self-promote (because let’s be honest – that’s a part of what all of us parenting bloggers do. Even the most altruistic of us. Even those of us who don’t depend on hits or advertising or who never make a cent off their blogs. We write because we want to be heard; we pray for bigger audiences, book deals, evidence that we’ve made some sort of impact. I happen to be rather shitty at this, which is why I don’t blog much anymore. I don’t have the stomach for that part of the job).
Another part of my conspicuous silence has been intentional, however. Probably more than I care to admit. See, I’ve been focusing my efforts on the supportive stuff. Reaching across the aisle, trying to understand all facets of this debate, and hoping that by creating better resources for all moms, I can help stop all the guilt/anger/resentment/confusion/hurt. I know that breastfeeding is important to many, many women. I want those women to succeed, and feel happy and proud and supported. So this year, I wanted to try and stay out of World Breastfeeding Week drama like I try and stay out of my kids’ sibling squabbles.
Yeah. Because that works so well with my kids.
The problem is, I also want formula feeding mothers to feel happy and proud and supported. And for some reason, it’s not okay to want both of these things. It’s ok to pay lip service to it, to claim #ISupportYou and tell formula feeding moms that celebrating breastfeeding isn’t about them. But if you actually do the work you need to do to ensure that non-breastfeeding parents are supported, you are violating WHO Code. You are taking attention away from the women who “need it”. You are stealing…. what? Resources? Sympathy? One-up(wo)manship?
I tried to stay out of it. I really did. I held my newly-minted CLC certification close to my non-lactating chest and bit my tongue.
And then the articles came, and came, and came. And so many this year were not about the benefits of breastfeeding, but rather how hard it was. Or how hard it was NOT to breastfeed. How this mom felt like she was poisoning her baby, or this one felt like she’d be booted from the “mom club” because she didn’t wear the EBF badge.
So much guilt/anger/resentment/confusion/hurt. None of it is stopping. There’s more this year than ever before.
Then this happened.
And I heard my community inwardly wince. Not for the reasons you might think. Not because they didn’t think it was a beautiful image, and not because it glamorized something that had been messy and painful for most of them, although those certainly were thoughts that some of us had to squash down into that endless pit of mother-guilt. No, it was because it was yet another image of a breastfeeding celebrity, with headlines and stories that spoke of her bravery for normalizing nursing, and comments all over the place about how breastfeeding was finally being celebrated.
I think, for many of us, it was the “finally” that did it. For many of us, it would seem far braver for a celebrity to do a shoot with her bottle-feeding her kid with a can of formula in the background. We have only seen breastfeeding being celebrated. There’s so much partying going on, and we feel like the crotchety old neighbors calling the cops with a noise complaint. But you know, it’s late, the music is loud, and we’re tired.
Now, just to be clear – I’m talking about breastfeeding being “celebrated” That celebration doesn’t do us much good. It does not mean that it is easy for moms to nurse in public. Obviously, it isn’t. Or that lactation services are plentiful and accessible to all. Obviously, they aren’t. Breastfeeding is celebrated, but that doesn’t stop it from being difficult for the new mom in the hospital, whose birth didn’t go as planned. Or the one who has to go back to work 2 weeks postpartum. Or the one with a job not conducive to pumping. Breastfeeding is celebrated, but not when you’re overweight. Or when you’re nursing a toddler.
Idealized images in the media of what breastfeeding looks like do not normalize nursing. In fact, I’d argue it fetishizes it – not for men, so much, but for women. Now, we don’t just have to feel inadequate for not fitting into size 2 jeans a month after giving birth, but we need to feel inadequate if we don’t meet the feeding norm and make it look gorgeous and natural and easy.
Please do not misread what I’m saying here – talking about breastfeeding, supporting breastfeeding, and implementing changes to make breastfeeding easier for those who want to do it are important, admirable, and necessary goals, as far as I’m concerned. But the comments I saw coming from my community after this photo hit the news were not about any of these things. They were from women feeling totally drained, frustrated, and alienated after a nearly a week of hearing how inferior their feeding method was, who were sick of being told they were defensive or that they feel guilty if they tried to stand up for themselves. This story was the last straw. It’s weird, when you think about it – it wasn’t the piece on the risks of formula, or the memes about the superiority of breastfed babies – what broke the camel’s back was a seemingly innocuous spread of a gorgeous, confident actress proudly nursing her baby.
This is what perpetuates the cycle of guilt/anger/resentment/confusion/hurt: our lived experiences are so damn different, that it’s like we’re constantly talking at cross-purposes. The nursing mom who is the only one in her small town not using a bottle sees a photo spread like this as thrilling, victorious, self-affirming – as she should. The formula feeding mom living in Park Slope who carries her formula-filled diaper bag like a modern-day hairshirt sees the same spread as just another celebrity being held up as a pioneer, when she’s only doing what’s expected of a woman of her stature – as she should. Both are right. Because both are personal, emotionally-driven responses.
Earlier this week, I said that deciding how to feed your baby is just one of a myriad of important parenting decisions. But somehow, it’s become the most important one. We cannot expect formula feeding moms to support their breastfeeding sisters when they don’t receive the same support. We just can’t. It’s not fair, and it’s not realistic. I feel like that’s what I’ve been asking of all of you, and somehow I just woke up to that fact.
Why are there still articles talking about how shitty we feel for not breastfeeding, instead of articles talking about what’s being done to change this? Where is the news story about the doctors who are saying enough is enough (because I know they are out there – many of them contact me, and I appreciate these emails, but I wish they were able to say these things publicly without fear of career suicide)? Where’s the NPR program about ways we can improve breastmilk substitutes so those who cannot or choose not to nurse aren’t left hanging? Where’s the Today Show, The View, The Katie Show, doing segments on why women are REALLY not meeting breastfeeding recommendations, instead of segment after segment on how brave so-and-so is for posing nursing their newborn on Instagram, or talking to dumbasses on the street about the “appropriate” age for weaning?
When we stop “celebrating” and start normalizing and supporting and being realistic about how different life can be even just a street away, maybe World Breastfeeding Week can have it’s proper due. Maybe we can actually talk about ways to help women in the most dire straits feed their babies as safely as possible – clean water, free breast pumps, free refrigeration, access to donor milk.
I want to be able to be silent during World Breastfeeding Week. It shouldn’t have to be “overshadowed” by emotional, personal pieces about breastfeeding “failure”. It shouldn’t be a time for articles about not making formula feeding moms feel “guilty”. These words shouldn’t even be part of our infant feeding lexicon, for godsakes. Failure? Guilt? For what?
This year, I want us to stop celebrating, and start having some calm, productive conversations with people outside your social circle. For many of us, the celebration feels exactly like high school, when the popular kids had parties and we sat home watching Sixteen Candles for the thirty-fifth time. That’s not to say breastfeeding isn’t worth celebrating, but the end goal should not be one group feeling triumphant and the other feeling downtrodden. Formula feeding was celebrated for decades too – and that celebration made the current atmosphere of breastfeeding promotion necessary. Please, let’s learn from our mistakes. Let’s move on. Rip down the streamers, put away the keg, and open the doors to the outsiders looking in. You never know – they could end up being the best friends you’ve ever had.