Just a few days after bringing my newborn daughter, Clara, home from the hospital, I found myself in the bathroom at 1:30 AM, desperately trying to avoid waking my partner. Overwhelmed with tears from the intense pain I was experiencing, I clutched a crumpled piece of paper with the lactation hotline number. I was aware that breastfeeding could be challenging, but the hospital nurse assured me that a 24-hour hotline was available for support. My pain tolerance was usually high, but this was pushing my limits.
Earlier that night, I had cried out during a feeding so loudly that my partner became concerned. I even considered asking him to run out for formula to give my sore breasts a break during the next feeding. Ultimately, I decided to push through, thinking I would manage the next feeding situation later, which led me to my frantic call at 1:30 AM.
When the call connected, to my surprise, a man answered. A MAN. I hesitated to hang up but quickly glanced at my bleeding, tender nipples and decided to give it a try. Taking a deep breath, I requested to speak with a lactation consultant.
To my disappointment, he informed me that the hotline was “backed up” and that I could expect a callback in about four hours. Four hours! I explained my urgent need for assistance, but he reassured me he understood and would have someone reach out as soon as possible. This meant I would have to endure another feeding session with no immediate help in sight.
For the men reading this, let me illustrate my situation in relatable terms. Picture this: you wake up in the middle of the night to an intense burning sensation. Suddenly, you hear an alarming noise that resembles a frantic creature. You realize, in horror, that the only way to silence this creature is to endure the burning sensation. In desperate need of guidance, you reach for a hotline number, hoping for immediate help.
A woman answers, “Hello, Burning Sensation Hotline! How may I assist you?” You express your distress, only to be told that the lines are busy and someone will call you back in four hours. You can’t help but feel frustrated, knowing this person cannot fully grasp your pain.
After ending the call, I felt a strong desire to tear up that piece of paper I had held onto moments before. I wished there was a way to connect with other women who were awake and battling similar struggles. If we had all heard about the four-hour wait, I imagined we could have united, sleep-deprived and determined, to storm the hotline’s office, demanding quicker assistance.
However, I also recognized that the hotline staff might genuinely be overwhelmed with calls from other women, each facing their own challenges in the quiet of night. While we couldn’t unite like a band of warriors, knowing that other women were experiencing the same hardships provided me with a sense of solidarity.
It wasn’t this man’s fault he was the one answering calls. Yet, I have one request for the managers of lactation hotlines: while I support workplace equality, please consider having female staff handle calls and provide updates. Some experiences are uniquely understood between women.
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