Breastfeeding is a natural and beautiful process that helps create intimacy and bonding between the mom and her bundle of joy.
Feeding babies whenever and wherever they are hungry is something mom’s shouldn’t feel bad about, but sadly, there are people out there who give them a hard time as they believe feeding babies in public is not appropriate or acceptable if they don’t use a cover.
Back in 2018, Melanie Dudley, a mom of a 3-month-old baby, was at a restaurant with her family and some friends when the little one started crying for food. Without hesitation, Melanie, who is from Texas, started breastfeeding her son. And although everyone was fine with that, it looked like a stranger who was sitting on the next table was uncomfortable with this mom not being covered while breastfeeding.
He approached Melanie and asked her to cover up. And well, she did just that, but in a manner that stranger expected.
”I was on vacation in Cabo San Lucas with my entire family, and a man asked me to cover myself. I’m usually discreet but we were seated in the back of the restaurant,” Melanie told Yahoo.
“I did have the cover on, but it was so hot. It was like, 95 degrees, and my little baby was sweating,” the Texan told TODAY.
“I said, ‘You know what? I’m on vacation, I’m taking this off.’”
Melanie took the cover and put it on her head instead, having the entire restaurant bursting out in laughter.
”I just put it over my head. I don’t know why. It wasn’t like a salacious fight or anything. That was just my response. I had no words, so I thought, I’ll just cover my head instead,” the woman explained.
A woman who witnessed the entire thing, Carol Lockwood, took a photo of Melanie and shared it online with the caption, “I’ve never met her, but I think she’s AWESOME!!! (Please share! With permission, I’ve made this post public — I’m SO over people shaming women for nursing!!!” In no time, the photo was shared 225,000 times and counting.
A great number of people stood my Melanie’s side and supported what she did.
We truly believe that breastfeeding is the most normal thing and no mom should feel ashamed for giving food to her baby in public.
Please SHARE this article with your family and friends on Facebook.
I WANT TO DUMP MY FIANCÉ AFTER GETTING THIS ENGAGEMENT RING.
The velvet box felt heavy in my hand, the crimson lining a stark contrast to the dull silver ring nestled within. I opened it slowly, my heart pounding with anticipation. He had been so secretive, so excited, that I’d imagined a dazzling diamond, a symbol of his love and commitment.
Instead, I stared at a simple silver band, intricately engraved with Celtic knots. It was undeniably beautiful, a piece of family history, no doubt. But where was the diamond? The sparkle? The symbol of a lifetime of promises?
“It’s… it’s beautiful,” I stammered, trying to mask the disappointment in my voice.
He beamed. “I know, right? It’s my grandmother’s ring. It has so much significance.”
He launched into a heartfelt speech about his grandmother, a woman I had never met, and the enduring legacy of this ring. He spoke of family history, of love passed down through generations. But all I could think about was the glaring absence of a diamond.
Had he even looked at it? Did he not see the way my eyes glazed over, the way my smile felt forced? Did he truly believe this heirloom, this symbol of his family’s past, could compensate for the lack of a present, tangible symbol of his love for me?
Later that evening, as I lay awake, the ring, cold and lifeless on my finger, felt like a heavy weight. I pictured the other women I knew, their hands adorned with sparkling diamonds, their faces radiant with joy. I imagined the envious glances, the whispered questions. “Where’s the diamond?” they would ask.
And then, the thought hit me: I deserved better. I deserved to feel cherished, to feel special. I deserved a ring that reflected the love he professed to have for me, a ring that made me feel like the most precious woman in the world.
A week. That’s all I would give him. One week to rectify this situation, to show me that he understood, that he valued my feelings. If he failed to do so, if he continued to dismiss my concerns, then this relationship was over.
The next morning, I woke up with a renewed sense of determination. I would not settle for less than I deserved. I would not allow him to diminish my worth.
The week that followed was a whirlwind of emotions. I tried to be understanding, to approach the subject with tact and diplomacy. I brought up the topic of engagement rings casually, mentioning articles I had read about modern trends, about the significance of diamonds in contemporary society.
He seemed oblivious. He talked about his grandmother, about family traditions, about the “sentimental value” of the ring. He even tried to convince me that diamonds were overrated, that true love was about more than material possessions.
But his words fell on deaf ears. My resolve hardened with each passing day. I knew what I wanted, and I wasn’t going to compromise.
Finally, on the seventh day, I sat him down for a serious conversation. “Look,” I said, my voice firm but gentle, “I appreciate the sentimental value of the ring, truly. But I also want to feel cherished, to feel like I’m truly valued. And honestly, I don’t feel that way.”
He looked at me, his face a mixture of surprise and hurt. “I don’t understand,” he said, his voice slightly defensive. “I gave you my grandmother’s ring. What more could you want?”
“I want to feel special,” I repeated, my voice unwavering. “I want to feel like you put as much thought into choosing my ring as you did into choosing me.”
He stared at me for a long moment, then looked down at his hands. “I… I don’t know what to say,” he finally admitted, his voice subdued.
“Then let me tell you,” I said, my voice steady. “I deserve a ring that reflects the depth of your love for me. A ring that makes me feel like the most beautiful, cherished woman in the world. If you can’t give me that, then maybe we’re not meant to be.”
The silence that followed was deafening. He looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of hurt and confusion. Finally, he nodded slowly. “I understand.”
And with that, the engagement was over. It wasn’t the ending I had envisioned, but it was the ending I deserved. I walked away, my head held high, knowing that I had made the right decision. I deserved to be loved, truly loved, for who I was. And I deserved a ring that reflected that love, a ring that sparkled as brightly as the future I envisioned for myself.
Leave a Reply