Okay, that title is intentionally mis-leading. I have two kids and I breastfed for a total of 7.5 years, and I trust you to do the math and determine my credibility, or lack, for yourself.

For context: the second one was a breeze. Baby latched on, slept, weaned in 4 years. The first one would have been a nightmare except nobody, not even the cat, was sleeping through that mess. 13 weeks, 5 lactation consultants. Trytrytry to nurse, fail horribly, cry, bottle, burp, cry, sing, pump, cry, and it’s time to trytrytry again. Who was crying? All of us, including the cat. After 13 weeks I gave up. Baby and I both burst into tears every time we got near each other, which is no way to live. We gave him a bottle of the Best Possible Formula. He HATED it, and the look on his face was priceless. He nursed okay from then on and we went for 3.5 years (should’ve tried the formula earlier, but who knew that would work? plus All The Advice About All The Things indicated that everything we were doing was completely wrong but that anything else we could try would be equally wrong. Pleh).

So how does this mom lose her nursing credibility? I’ll tell you, but it’s going to take a minute, and I need you to clear your mind.

Imagine you’re out somewhere: restaurant, airplane, what have you. You’re minding your own business when a baby starts throwing food at you. Hmm. No, it’s not at you — it’s hitting other stuff, too. Other people, tables, chairs, walls. That’s kind of annoying. Shouldn’t somebody stop that?

This isn’t oaty-owes or pabu-crunchies. It’s sticky. And sweet. And greasy. And it smells kind of gross when it dries.

So you look. And you realize the baby isn’t throwing food. No, every time this kid looks away from its food, even for a second, the MOM is throwing food. And it’s going everywhere. You watch for a minute and you realize, worse yet (possible? YES) that in addition to throwing food everywhere, she’s even chucking it AT THE BABY. Bam! Food in the hair. Bam! Food in the ear. Which makes the baby cry. Plus all this food-chucking is really, really wasteful. Maybe mom should STOP throwing food?

Great idea! I agree. But my letdown* was so strong that anytime, day or night, for the whole 7.5 years, if a child latched OFF suddenly, to turn to look at a bright light or a loud noise or an interesting motion or just to wave HEEEYYYYY to the world, I involuntarily shot milk all over the whole universe. All over everything. I could get people sitting in the next booth in a restaurant (over the table, over the people sitting across from me, over the back of the seat, onto the head of the person on the other side). I could hit the TV from our couch. Strangers sitting in front of us on an airplane. And so on. It’s hard to clean up after that mess every time, plus it’s wasteful. And people often** find it kind of annoying to be sprayed with milk coming from the breast of a stranger. So I covered. Yep, I admit it. I covered. Me and baby, with anything I could use. Sheet. Blanket. Coat. Shirt. Purse. Scarf. Shawl. And finally, The Poncho.

At home. In bed. On the couch. On a chair. In the car. In my office. On the plane. In the airport. In the hotel. In a work meeting. I nursed those kids EVERYWHERE I went for 7.5 years and they were covered Almost Every Single Time.

No breastfeeding mother should ever, ever, ever have, or be expected, or be asked, to cover unless she and baby(ies) mutually desire it. Many (probably most) babies don’t like it and won’t eat well. For me and my little ones, covering was mutually AWESOME. I’m always (always!) cold, so being covered kept me from freezing to death while they munched away. Being covered kept my little ones from getting distracted, and made it easier for them to focus on turning into big, giant, roly-poly healthy happy babies and toddlers. I liked to eat while they nursed (I like to eat anytime), and they got a lot fewer crumbs in their hair this way. They loved to play peekaboo with the cover before they got started or after they were done. And both of them thought it was FANTASTIC the way they felt like they had this cool little face-time with Mom once I got The Poncho. The Poncho had a hood and a zippered neck, so I could pull up the hood and pull down the zipper, and baby and I could both see each other but no one else, and no one else could see us. We’d giggle and coo and get downright silly in our little tunnel. And nurse!

The Poncho was great — giant, made out of grey fleece — and I could wear it over top of wearing the baby in his wrap or sling, keeping us both warm. Plus it made a great blanket.

But…it meant I couldn’t go to nurse-ins where only uncovered breastfeeding “counted.” It meant moms who weren’t covered gave me sad (or worse) looks because I wasn’t brave enough to do the right thing for my baby (I actually got the best of both worlds in terms of catching negative looks: because my little pteranodons belonged to the Loud Eater Club, people who didn’t like me breastfeeding “in public” even though I WAS covered also gave me grief, because they didn’t like the Really Loud slurping noises!).

I said this once but it bears repeating: No breastfeeding mother should ever, ever, ever have or be expected or be asked to cover unless she and baby(ies) mutually desire it. But we shouldn’t assume that a covered mom is doing something wrong, either. I worked hard for those 7.5 years of nursing, and I enjoyed every second of it (AFTER THE FIRST 13 WEEKS). So this mom is reclaiming my credibility: Covered breastfeeding counts! Shooting milk all over the room, while a really cool ability, is kind of messy, can be wasteful, and in my case, tended to annoy the baby. Plus I still have a super-spiffy poncho.

*You can look it up. I’m not calling this “overactive” or “oversupply”; it was just how my breasts worked while lactating.

**I’m not going to address the cases where strangers were not annoyed by this. You do you, I say.