Just days after bringing my daughter, Zoe, home from the hospital, I found myself locked in the bathroom at 1:30 AM, trying to keep my husband from waking up. Tears streamed down my face as I experienced excruciating pain while desperately dialing the number on a slip of paper I was clutching. I was aware that breastfeeding could be challenging, but the reassurance from the hospital nurse about the 24-hour lactation hotline had provided me with a glimmer of hope. I usually manage pain well, but this was pushing my limits.
Earlier that night, I had cried out loudly while feeding Zoe, which made my husband uneasy. I contemplated asking him to run out for formula to give my sore nipples a break during the night feed. Ultimately, I decided to tough it out and handle the next feeding later. This led me to my frantic call at 1:30 AM.
Finally, someone answered the phone.
To my surprise, it was a man. A MAN. I thought about hanging up but glanced down at my painful, bleeding nipples and decided to give it a try. I took a deep breath, cleared my throat, and requested to speak with a lactation consultant.
To my dismay, he informed me that the lines were “backed up” and that a consultant would call me back in about four hours. FOUR HOURS! I insisted that I needed immediate assistance, but he assured me he understood and that someone would get back to me as soon as possible. I would have to endure another feeding with Zoe before I could get help.
For the Men Reading This
Let me illustrate my predicament in relatable terms. Picture this:
You wake up in the middle of the night to find that your groin is on fire. Before you can fully process this, a horrifying sound erupts—like a screaming piranha. The only way to silence this creature? You need to attach it to your inflamed area. You remember a hotline exists that could help, so, trembling in pain, you dial the number.
A woman answers.
“Hello, Flaming Balls Hotline! How can I assist you?”
“MY GROIN IS ON FIRE!”
“I’m sorry to hear that, sir. Unfortunately, our lines are currently backed up. I do understand your frustration.”
“Are you serious?! You don’t even have a groin!”
“Yes, that’s correct. However, I assure you that someone who does will return your call within the next four hours. In the meantime, it might be best to take care of the piranha, or it will starve. Your call is important to us and will be addressed in the order received.”
Gentlemen, does that help clarify my situation?
After ending the call, I felt an overwhelming urge to set that piece of paper ablaze. I wished I had a direct line to connect with other women enduring the same struggle at that ungodly hour. I could imagine us banding together, sleep-deprived and frustrated, storming the lactation hotline office demanding quicker assistance.
Yet, I realized that perhaps they really were overwhelmed, doing their best to support women like me, who were also awake, alone, and in tears on their bathroom floors with their babies. They couldn’t unite like an angry mob, but knowing that others were facing similar challenges made me feel a little less isolated.
It was not the man’s fault that he was tasked with answering calls at the lactation hotline, but I do have one request for the hotline managers: in the spirit of workplace equality, please consider having a woman handle calls and provide wait times. There are some conversations that only women can truly understand.
And rest assured, I will never apply for a position at the “Flaming Balls Hotline.”
For more information on home insemination, check out this resource. If you’re looking for a comprehensive guide, visit this page for details on home insemination kits. Additionally, Kindbody offers valuable insights into pregnancy and related topics.
In summary, while the experience with the lactation hotline was far from ideal, it highlighted the importance of shared struggles among mothers. It emphasized the need for empathetic support during challenging moments in motherhood.