My body, my choice

My body, my choice

My body, my choice 150 150 rebekahrosler

Today was too beautiful a day to be a slave to the eating and sleeping schedule of newborn twins. So Nathan and I ventured out. We walked west. Found a park, sat down – I nursed both babes and we headed to the Highline.

We had a lovely walk in our wonderful city and ended up having a late lunch at Shake Shack where I nursed one of the babies again (still aiming to follow a schedule ?)

On our walk home Marley woke up from a nap, and doing what any good mother would do, I picked her up to feed her. Never have I questioned when or where I should nourish any of my children – in whatever way they need to be satiated in the moment.

Passing 3rd avenue, Nathan pushing the stroller we both hear a guy say “tell your woman to put some clothes on, sheesh.”

Wait. What. He couldn’t possibly be talking to us. To my husband.

He was.

So much anger bubbled up in me – because this was so disgusting on so many levels – but for the safety of the babies, we just kept walking and just looked at each other. So I stayed silent – allowing a man I don’t even know – to determine how I should be treated.

I count myself among the lucky who live in NYC where acceptance and openness are the norm. But on the tail end of the “me too” campaign – this brings to light a different type of harassment.

I was appalled by his reaction. I was disgusted by his words – to my husband – about me, an object?

I am grateful – and I guess lucky – that this was the first time I encountered such a scenario – and am so sad for the other women who face this type of harassment – or don’t feed their babies because of the fear.

I don’t know that I have a point here. I just think while we’re talking about what women are expected to endure – we should also be reminded of how empowered we should be. We get to nourish our babies – and give life to the next generation.

So hey, guy on 3rd avenue and 22nd Street. Fuck you. I’m going to keep doing me. And you better not find me again when I’m sans babies because I have a few choice words for you.

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