About Joanna Track
Four years ago, Sweetspot.ca Founder Joanna Track settled down with her darling husband and his two adorable young boys. She’s since added “new mom” to her long list of achievements with the addition of baby Teddy. Check back weekly for her tales of sweet family life.
I don’t mean to brag, but I was blessed with a good “rack.” They weren’t too big, or too small, but just right. And then baby Teddy came along. And now not only are they busting out of my shirts like some Dolly Parton album cover, but they have become a spectacle for all of the world to see.
It’s not that I was ever the most modest gal in town. While my best friend/sister-in-law hides behind curtains and doors to change, I’m the one who will strip down in front of anyone, from doctors to sales clerks. But by choosing to breastfeed I also seem to have chosen to bare all. Literally.
What is it about breastfeeding that makes your breasts become a separate entity? I know many women have shared this sentiment with me. It’s like an out-of-body experience, but this time it’s your boobs that are outside of your body.
For me it all started when I got home from the hospital and my house had a parade of family and friends stopping by to see the baby and help out. I distinctly remember the first time Teddy started crying out to be fed while both my brothers and my father were sitting right there. What a dilemma…do I just whip “it” out? Yes, I did. My brothers haven’t had this kind of peep show since we were sharing a bath as children and I’m pretty sure I cut my Dad off soon after that.
Then there’s Max and Carter, my step-sons, who at 10 and 11, are just on the cusp of actually caring about boobs, but still young enough to elicit an “Ick” when you talk about them. And since I’m “like a Mom” but not their Mom, do I whip “it” out in front of them? Yes, I did.
With those hurdles behind me it has only gotten easier. Now my audience includes everyone from the nanny and cleaning lady, to my mother-in-law and and even my friend’s husband.
Admittedly, at first I felt somewhat awkward, but then it donned on me. I was more worried that others were uncomfortable than actually suffering from any personal discomfort myself. So then I said, to hell with it! If they are uncomfortable they can get up and go. After all, I’m the one feeding the baby, and hey, if you got ‘em, flaunt ‘em! (And from what I hear they may not be here when I’m done.)
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