A matter of discretion

Let's take another stroll down memory lane, shall we?

Shortly after my daughter was born, my mother called to ask me what I might need for the baby. In addition to all the pink, ruffly, and girlish necessities, I requested a nursing cape. We had only recently moved to Norway, and I hadn't been able to find one. I couldn't understand it at first. Nursing in public is widely accepted in Norway, how could they not sell nursing covers? I've since noticed that Norwegian women are very adept at nursing without exposing any inappropriate parts. In one swift movement, baby is latched on. I was never quite so confident that I could manage it all so gracefully.

I nursed my son for a year in the U.S. When we were out among people, that meant a lot of going back to the car, or finding a bathroom, and basically trying to find a 'private' place to feed my son. I wouldn't want to expose anyone to the sight of (lowering voice to a whisper) my breast, would I? That would be unseemly.

We Americans, we'd rather see a decapitated head in a post box on C.S.I., then be exposed to the sight of a woman's nipple. My husband and I were discussing why that was once. I said it was probably because the decapitated head wasn't real. He pointed out that most exposed breasts aren't real either. Touche.

In any case, I am what I am, to include my prudish American sensibilities. The thought of accidentally exposing part of my breast, or worse, part of my nipple to the outside world filled me with terror. There are no high-end department store lounge-type bathrooms where I am. Nursing is widely accepted here so hiding out in a foul-smelling cramped bathroom to nurse my new baby seemed a little ridiculous. I thought a nursing cape seemed like the perfect compromise. I could find myself a nice corner in a cafe, while my daughter nursed discreetly under the drape -- a calm, gentle image, isn't it?

So I asked my mother for a nursing cape. She obliged. My mistake, however, was in not specifying color. I had wrongly assumed all nursing capes came in drab shades of black or brown or navy. Discreet colors. Apparently not. My parents live in Hawaii, where everything comes in Hawaiian print. My mother thought it would be a great idea to send me a HAWAIIAN PRINT nursing cape -- a BRIGHT PEACH, BIB-SHAPED, HAWAIIAN PRINT nursing cape. This was not my idea of discretion.

To top it off, my daughter was not a gentle nurser. She liked to look around, wave her hands and feet, and just plain wiggle. I really never understood what she was doing down there. Sometimes it felt like a wresting match between my daughter and my breast. So it came to pass that we would be out and about, and my baby would get hungry. Just like in my fantasy, I'd find a quiet corner in a cafe and sit down.

That's where the similarity to my imagined nursing scenario ends. I must have made quite a sight. I would put on my giant, peach, Hawaiian-print bib and nurse my daughter. Meanwhile, she'd begin to wriggle, flailing her tiny hands and feet, causing the colorful cape to twist and turn alarmingly. Sometimes a little fist would poke out from underneath here, then a little sock-covered foot there. I imagine the poor Norwegian passers-by, usually old, retired people, couldn't figure out what they were seeing at first. So in my effort to be discreet, I made more of a spectacle of myself.

I eventually had to ditch the cape.

When I took it out to take pictures for the blog, my kids thought it was an apron. Here is the subtle, yet lovely print.

*Nursing Tip for U.S. moms: Nordstrom's has the best bathrooms for nursing. They usually have a small little lounge area with comfy couches that are away from the toilets. The ones I've been in smell nice, too. So if you ever need a place to feed baby, the first place you should head is the restrooms of high-end department stores. It's sometimes nice to just have a nice, quiet spot to be with your baby, especially in a crowded shopping center, regardless of whether you are shy about public feeding or not.