Going public

John took me and the boys to a soccer game last night.  It was the first time we've attended a sporting event with both kids, and it actually went great.  The only problem was that I'm still a terrible public breast feeder.  With Alex I'd hide away in the restroom to nurse, but I vowed I wouldn't do that with Max.  Well, I actually did do it once with Max and I hated it.  You wouldn't eat your lunch in a public restroom, why should the baby? 

I don't know if the problem is that I'm too busty or if I'm just not coordinated enough.  I try draping a blanket over the baby and myself, but breastfeeding without the cover up requires two or more hands. Trying to aim a squirmy baby at a large leaky boob blindly under a blanket is apparently too hard for me.  I wish I were the kind of woman to just say, screw it, the baby needs to eat and if I have to expose an entire stadium of soccer fans to my nipple, so be it.  But alas, I'm way too shy for that kind of thing.  I nursed Alex for nine months, and I'm going on six weeks now with Max, but to watch me try to breastfeed in public, you'd think it was my first time trying such a thing. 

I was more or less successful last night though.  I managed to feed the baby, with relatively no nipple exposure to neighboring spectators.  The problem was, once I was done feeding him, I couldn't figure out a way to nonchalantly replace my breast pad.  I ended up stuffing the pad in my pocket, which would have been fine, except Max had to nurse on the other side later and those of you who have breastfed, you know that once one boob gets a flowin', the other follows suit.  I spent the last half hour of the game with a big wet milk spot on my shirt about three and a half inches in diameter squarely over my right breast.  Apparently I've learned that replacing the breast pad is not optional.