Three times a day, I have my very own, one-woman, milk parade. It starts in the bathroom or the kitchen, where I wash my hands and grab a few paper towels. Proceeds to my cubicle where I assemble the boobcones-valves-bottles into two collection devices and don the pump in its backpack. Then in the direction opposite the kitchen, carrying the collection devices (dominated by the boobcones), passing most of my coworkers, to reach a spare office serving as milk central for me and another pumping coworker. There, I fill the bottles, while staring out the window at the palm trees on the Palace grounds, wondering if people in the nearby buildings (including the glass elevator across the street) can see me, but not really caring. (My boob modesty flew out the window our first night home from the hospital when my milk first came in and my mom and I worked to get it out while Sam carried around a crying MrMan and then I fed MrMan while standing in the living room, my nightgown hiked up around my neck, my mother commenting that I probably never expected to be so "earth mother." That was also around the time I started calling them "boobs," instead of "breasts." Just a couple of weeks before that, I asked her to close her eyes before she gave me her opinion on a nursing bra, before realizing that she needed her eyes open.)
Bottles full and capped, in one hand, backpack zipped and over my shoulder, boobcones in the other hand, I then march my parade back to the other end of the office, silently high-fiving my boobs along the way. I stop at my desk to label the bottles with date, time, and MrMan's name (the last, just in case someone thinks it would be fun to make latte from a little bottle), and drop off the pump. Then on to the kitchen, where I put the bottles in the fridge, behind the gallon of cow's milk. And dissasemble and wash the boobcones and their attachments. Then back to my desk, where I place them to dry, until they're used again in a few hours.
Sounds like a lot of work. It is. But I find it harder trying to find something to wear in the morning, with my body in this weird, hopefully temporary, shape.
Posted by Shokufeh at February 9, 2006 08:50 PMI completely identify with this ritual, as I have an eight month-old and have been performing it every weekday for many months now. I feel a little jealous about the palm trees, though, as it's 25 degrees in Philadelphia today and the hospital I work in isn't very warm, and so I start dreading have to uncover my entire front for about a half hour before I actually do it every time. Don't worry...the body shape thing is temporary. :)
Posted by: Gretchen at February 10, 2006 08:35 AMGreat things to look forward to....
Posted by: steph at February 10, 2006 12:22 PMSounds like my life, except the work thing. Even though I stay at home, I still have to pump. Why? Because Ms. Camille could never get the hang of nursing after having to be bottle fed for a week, she has to make me feed her the hard way!!
Posted by: Emily at February 10, 2006 02:31 PM"...silently high-fiving my boobs..." HAHAHAHA!
Posted by: george at February 11, 2006 09:35 AMOh, those were the days. I had an Avent hand pump (no electricity for me) that was surprisingly effective. My all-time "high score" was 32 ounces in one sitting. That might explain why the little man was 25 pounds of chub at six months of age :-)
Posted by: Sharyn at February 12, 2006 08:42 AM