My Inflatable Brest Friend


Picture this scene.

Mommy, daddy, and 7-week old baby are taking a lovely walk up Manhattan’s west side on a quintessential summer Saturday. Many of the locals retreat to their summer palaces and so the remaining stragglers are either poorer or tourists.

My boyfriend and I set out to explore the newly opened expanded section of Hudson River Park, just north of Chelsea Piers. This serene, well-designed green areas adjacent to Chelsea Piers has several piers, many well-groomed lawns, a carousel, a fabulous water playground and a hip skate park.

In the center area, there are darting docks over the water, all framed with new beautiful benches.

Here is where I thought would be the perfect spot to take a break and nurse the baby. I was prepared – I had brought along my inflatable Brest Friend. (Yes that’s really what it’s called – and don’t mock my convenience.

I’m not shy and will feed my baby wherever and whenever she needs it, but over the last 7 weeks, I’ve learned that outside-the-home feedings can be very uncomfortable. Enter the travel version of the breastfeeding support pillow, My Brest Friend. $20 at Walmart Online and infinite hours of public breastfeeding comfort.

So here we are in this tranquil New York City green stretch over the water, and I whip it out. The pillow – not the boob. I feel eyeballs – but only slightly. I snap the boob feeding support on my waist and get situated. This is when I become aware that the sun is directly on the baby’s face. My instincts have me jump up to find a new locale.

So I stand up – just to realize that I’m walking with what looks like an inner tube around my waist. On dry land. When I start to walk forward, I hear laughter. I should have taken the inflatable Brest Friend off BEFORE I went looking for a new place to breastfeed. I immediately dislodge the inflatable Brest Friend by the plastic buckle that has secured it around my middle, shove it back in the stroller and walk to a different bench before it shows its paisley fabric-covered plastic face again.

But I’m left with the image of myself walking with the inner tube around my waist on a pier in Chelsea. No regret, of course; I still praise the inflatable boob support!

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