The rawness of this photography has had me thinking about it for days. I really wanted to post it earlier, but even though I share so much here, the intimacy, the messiness, the pure beauty of it...
The rawness of this photography has had me thinking about it for days. I really wanted to post it earlier, but even though I share so much here, the intimacy, the messiness, the pure beauty of it made it difficult because I wanted to add to words (that allude me) to give it weight.
It makes me cry even thinking of words, but here it goes anyway. I was not a good mother in any way except in how I got my shit together for my infants. My first son it was so hard because my breasts became so engorged that there was no nipple for him to latch onto. My mom laughs and jokes about when I was a baby you could get baby downers at the drugstore and when I would cry she would dose me up, put me in a playpen, and leave the house until I stopped crying and fell asleep, so it was super important to me to be there and try to comfort my crying son, but my breasts would not cooperate, but I would sing to him, and hold him tight, and rock and bounce and repeat for what seemed eternity. I remember trying to hand express my milk enough so there was enough nipple for his hunger to grab hold. And I hated me and my failure, and it was this thing that we didn't talk about in polite company. And when it finally happened - the pain, the chaffed and bleeding nipples that pushed me to give it up, and all of this alone. But just as I was about to give it up, it finally worked.
Sophie Harris-Taylor’s Milk series just captures so much of what women go through to nourish their babies, that I just wanted to share.
Some excerpts from the photographed mothers:
"He’d feed for very long periods and never seem satisfied afterwards. I was constantly questioning my ability and supply as well as dealing with sore nipples, exhaustion and over all discomfort.. I built a negative relationship with the whole thing that is hard to break even though things are better after his tongue tie surgery." - Thea
...
"I didn’t expect there to be so much of a problem with feeding publicly. Some people just don’t like the fact that I’m feeding my child and think that I should go hide away or just stay home, which I think is ridiculous, and I feel as though it should be embraced more in the public eye so it’s not seen as a problem." - Elizabeth
...
"You can go to every lactation class, read every book, have super long, teat shaped, perfect nipples and it can still be bloody difficult. The feeling of failure that I couldn’t get breastfeeding to work and having to exclusively pump for almost 3 months. I made myself sick with bladder infections, mastitis & nipple thrush. I really imagined myself as some earth mama that would breastfeed her baby until 6 months and beyond, I’ll probably always feel guilt that I wasn’t able to do that." - Lizzie
...
"Breastfeeding is messy business. My breasts leak, become engorged in the night and start spurting milk if I hear Oki cry. I expected breastfeeding to be much more straightforward" - Nicole
My wife had issues breastfeeding our first child and she struggled with so much guilt about it. I had no idea how much pressure and expectation women feel around nursing, and the condescension...
My wife had issues breastfeeding our first child and she struggled with so much guilt about it. I had no idea how much pressure and expectation women feel around nursing, and the condescension online (and with one of the lactation consultants at the hospital) only made things worse.
We eventually discovered that our oldest had a milk allergy and had to put him on milk-free formula, and it was like the guilt evaporated overnight. Things went easier with our second child, and much, much easier with the third. It was eye-opening to see the social pressures around something that I had frankly never given a second thought.
The rawness of this photography has had me thinking about it for days. I really wanted to post it earlier, but even though I share so much here, the intimacy, the messiness, the pure beauty of it made it difficult because I wanted to add to words (that allude me) to give it weight.
It makes me cry even thinking of words, but here it goes anyway. I was not a good mother in any way except in how I got my shit together for my infants. My first son it was so hard because my breasts became so engorged that there was no nipple for him to latch onto. My mom laughs and jokes about when I was a baby you could get baby downers at the drugstore and when I would cry she would dose me up, put me in a playpen, and leave the house until I stopped crying and fell asleep, so it was super important to me to be there and try to comfort my crying son, but my breasts would not cooperate, but I would sing to him, and hold him tight, and rock and bounce and repeat for what seemed eternity. I remember trying to hand express my milk enough so there was enough nipple for his hunger to grab hold. And I hated me and my failure, and it was this thing that we didn't talk about in polite company. And when it finally happened - the pain, the chaffed and bleeding nipples that pushed me to give it up, and all of this alone. But just as I was about to give it up, it finally worked.
Sophie Harris-Taylor’s Milk series just captures so much of what women go through to nourish their babies, that I just wanted to share.
Some excerpts from the photographed mothers:
My wife had issues breastfeeding our first child and she struggled with so much guilt about it. I had no idea how much pressure and expectation women feel around nursing, and the condescension online (and with one of the lactation consultants at the hospital) only made things worse.
We eventually discovered that our oldest had a milk allergy and had to put him on milk-free formula, and it was like the guilt evaporated overnight. Things went easier with our second child, and much, much easier with the third. It was eye-opening to see the social pressures around something that I had frankly never given a second thought.
Overwhelmingly gorgeous. I want to cry. Thanks for posting.