Sheena McAfeehas breastfed all three of her children and, despite one negative comment while feeding in public, she has found it a very positive experience

IT'S 4am and I'm typing with one finger as I feed my 11-week-old daughter, Beth. In 30 minutes we'll both be back asleep without having left the warmth of my bed. On a cold October morning, I relish the fact that I'm not heading to the kitchen to prepare or warm a bottle. Maybe I have an over-developed lazy streak but the convenience and ease of breastfeeding are way up there on my list of the benefits. This is my third time breastfeeding. Sam was born in 2000, followed by Daniel in 2005, and then Beth arrived. I've no recollection of ever making a conscious decision to breastfeed my children. My mum had breastfed me. The health benefits were clearly established.

Every health practitioner, every piece of hospital and health-board literature extolled the benefits. It was a "no-brainer".

In my naivety I never considered that it might not work out or that I might encounter difficulties. I never wondered about what support might or might not be available. And I was lucky. It just worked.

I feel particularly lucky when contrasted with women I know who have struggled to find the support they needed, trawling the internet, desperately searching for the local branch of Cuidiú or La Leche League, and sometimes reaching into their pockets to pay a private lactation consultant for the help that isn't often available from hospitals or public health services.

The one decision I do remember taking was that if I was breastfeeding I was not going to become a social recluse in order to do it. I would feed when my baby needed, regardless of where I was or who was there. I never considered whether I was legally or morally entitled to do so.

Perhaps I assumed that State-sponsored promotion of breastfeeding was matched by supporting legislation. I certainly believed that anyone who had issues with me breastfeeding in public should deal with those issues rather than expect me to.

I've fed, and do feed, my baby wherever I happen to be when the need arises.

I've met with no negative reaction, with the notable exception of a church warden who informed me that I should "get that child a bottle" when I left a church service to feed my second son. Although I didn't mention it at the time, there was an irony in that statement coming from a woman worshipping in a church with stained-glass windows showing Jesus at Mary's breast.

My son was weaned before we made a return visit many months later. And maybe that says something about how damaging a negative reaction can be. I can't imagine what it is like if your own family don't support your decision to breastfeed. I can't see why a stranger in a cafe feels entitled to comment on how and where a woman should feed her baby. (Although I'm told that those same strangers are horrified when it is suggested that they too should retreat to the toilets with their beverage of choice!) But I have friends who have been on the receiving end of both experiences.

As a first timer in the early months of maternity leave, motherhood was an isolating experience for me. Making it to the local coffee shop and indulging in a latte and feeling that I was part of the outside world kept me sane when I really wasn't sure what this motherhood lark was all about.

Second time around involved the psychological and social adjustment to life as a stay-at-home mother and again the need to get out irrespective of feeds was really important. It also allowed me to build up a social circle of other mums with young children.

Motherhood third-time around simply doesn't allow for the luxury of scheduling feeds at home. Runs to school, playschool, karate, swimming, trips to the dentist or barber, outings to the cinema, park, playground or zoo, these things don't fit in around feeds, so feeds fit in around them. Feeling comfortable while feeding out and about helps preserve my sanity and my ability to function as a mum. I've found that breastfeeding can be as discreet as I need it to be.

Maybe the majority of people who've seen me feed my babies haven't even realised what's going on. Maybe they have. I'd love to think that a few who have fed out will register it as something normal, natural and convenient that they, or their partners, or daughters can also do.

Without fear of comment or disapproval.

My own experience of breastfeeding has been so positive. I'd love to see it become the norm in Ireland. And that will only happen if we can feed freely outside the confines of our own homes. Every time I breastfeed out and about, I hope I make it a little bit easier for my daughter to do the same.