The F word

It is used in hushed tones in the circles that I move in these days - best avoided, used with caution and with almost an apology, lest you think the speaker is being unkind or even rude. I am referring to the much feared, much maligned taboo, formula milk.

The NHS has its own agenda and preaches the practise of breastfeeding like gospel. I have nothing against breastfeeding, I am appalled at the blatant discrimination against mothers who chose not to, for whatever reason, and against babies who are formula fed.

I say that this discrimination exists because I have been on both ends of the divide. I started out as a new mother, desperate to get breastfeeding going, but failing miserably. I got some help from the health service but soon they decided that it was a lost cause. The body language, the tone of voice, the choice of words left me and my family feeling that we had no hope in hell. Suddenly we became just another number in their registers waiting to be ticked off.

That's when, desperate and in tears, I called the National Childbirth Trust's breastfeeding helpline. And yes, I pressed the panic button. What that chat with the breastfeeding counsellor did for me that night I can never forget. She gave me hope, she gave me tips, she told me not to give up, she said I could do it if I was determined enough - she said it is never a lost cause - and that is what I guess I needed to hear.

Next morning, A and I packed little N into the car seat and drove to the baby cafe. There, experienced breastfeeding counsellors help struggling new mums get the technique right. And that morning, on the 10th day after his birth, N had his first full meal from the breast. I cried in joy and relief as other young mums cheered us.

Now at the weekly meetings with the health service N and I are extolled as an example of how well a baby fed only on breastmilk does. Our health visitor knows not only our names but also our address. Why she even hugs us! We are no longer just a number in the register.

I wish it didn't have to be like this. Why were we left to fend for ourselves? Why did the health service give up on us when we needed them the most? What if I hadn't called the NCT? How many other new mums just give up in desperation and pain?

And what about those who just cannot breastfeed? Why are we made to feel so horribly wrong if we give formula to our babies? Why does everyone behave as if you are letting your child down in some unspeakable ways if you are unable to breastfeed?

Just another one of the innumerable ways in which women are made to feel smaller, lesser, guiltier. And it is not even accounted for as discrimination.