Chapter 1: The Cereal Aisle
"Cover Yourself.
Nobody Wants to See That." I Was 6 Weeks Postpartum When My Breast Milk Leaked Through My Shirt at the Grocery Store — I Hadn't Even Noticed Until a Man Called Me Out
My milk let down in the cereal aisle and I didn't feel it happen.
Six weeks postpartum.
First time out of the house alone since the hospital.
Dan had Nora on his chest when I left and told me to take my time, and I was still out the door in under four minutes.
Denim shorts, gray tank top, and a flannel over it I hadn't buttoned.
I'd showered and put my hair up.
That felt like an achievement.
Maria was meeting me there.
She'd texted twice — stuck behind a truck, then *5 minutes, I swear* — because she'd been trying to see me since the birth and I'd canceled on her four times.
I had bread and a gallon of milk in the cart and I was comparing unit prices on two boxes of cereal.
A man came up the aisle.
Sixties, navy polo, gray stubble.
He stopped much closer than he needed to.
"Oh my God."
I thought he'd dropped something.
"Cover yourself.
Nobody wants to see that."
Full volume.
Someone near the bakery turned around.
I still didn't understand.
I took both sides of the flannel and pulled them open to look down at myself.
Two wet circles.
Dark gray on light gray, straight through the tank, the size of my palms.
I'd been in that store eleven minutes.
I stood there holding my own shirt open, staring down at my chest, with a stranger's face eight inches from mine.
And I said sorry.
"I'm sorry — I didn't — I'm so sorry."
"You people just do whatever you want now."
I said it again.
I said sorry three times to that man in about six seconds.
That's when Maria came around the end of the aisle.
She saw me first.
Then she saw him standing over me.
She didn't say hello and she didn't ask what was going on.
She walked straight up beside him — close enough that he turned his head — and raised her phone.
"Don't move," she said.
"Either of you."
He said, "What are you doing?"
She took the picture.
Then she lowered the phone, glanced at the screen for a second, and said, "Good.
Now say the thing about her body again, because I want the second one to have your mouth open."
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What did Maria do next — and did that man ever say another word?
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