I have a severe case of breastfeeding anxiety.
In my worst nightmare I am in the food court at the mall. My baby begins to scream at that level that makes you want to slam your head in a door. I nervously look around and find I am surrounded by construction workers eating pizza and very anal looking women in 1950s hats holding the hands of young boys. I reach in my diaper bag past the toy trucks, diapers, wipes, and booty cream until finally my hand lands on that giant piece of cloth that is my breastfeeding cover. I throw it over my profusely sweating face and begin to feed my baby who is now clawing at me like a wild animal. He latches on and my relief is interrupted by the gasps of the ladies and the whistles of the men. It is then that I notice the gaping hole in my cover. Oh horror above horrors… I am totally exposed. The ladies cover the eyes of their young who are now crying, the men laugh and point. I am escorted out and told to never return to the mall. I am circling the mall wondering how I will fill my days when I awaken to none other than that little wild animal clawing at me. How wonderful to be in the privacy of my bedroom.