Ah, the breast pump. A nursing mom’s best friend and worst enemy. On one hand, it gives us the option to continue breastfeeding when we go back to work, or when baby struggles with his latch, or any of the multitude of reasons that could otherwise prevent a mom from nursing. But on the other hand, it sucks (…see what I did there?). It’s uncomfortable, it’s time consuming, and it downright messes with your mind at times. Between watching the ounces creep along in the collection bottles while simultaneously watching the minutes of your life tick by in solitude, the inner monologue can be confusing, to say the least.
Why, you ask? (I don’t care that you didn’t ask… I’ve got nothing better to do, since I’m strapped into a plastic machine for the next 20 minutes). Allow me to enlighten you with my oh-so-riveting thought process during an average pump session, from start to finish:
- Dang, is it time yet? My boobs feel like they’re gonna explode.
- Don’t think about the baby, don’t think about the baby, don’t think about the baby…
- Crap. There’s the letdown.
- Better run and get hooked up to the pump before I completely ruin this bra.
- Yes, hello co-workers, don’t mind me as I casually sprint into this closet and make weird mechanical noises. Nothing to see here.
- Gah, why is it so cold in here? It’s almost as if we’re expected to keep our shirts *on* in this office building.
- Ok, all situated. Let’s do this thing.
- Seriously? Now there’s not a drop to be seen?!
- Ok, time to bring in the big guns—baby pics!
- God, my little life-spawn is so cute. I just wanna squeeze him and kiss those little chee—aaaand there’s the milk.
- I will not stress over the ounces today. Whatever I’m getting is good enough for my baby and more than he would’ve had otherwise.
- I will not stress over the ounces, I will not stress over the ounces, I will NOT. STRESS. OVER. THE OUNCES.
- Don’t look at the bottles. Just don’t even look at them.
- Ok, I’m just gonna take a tiny peek, but I won’t even care how much is in there.
- THAT’S IT?!
- Cranking up the suction, damn it.
- OUCH, too high. Is there something with teeth in there?
- Ok, let’s get this show on the road. I’ve got things to do.
- OMG is someone trying to come in? “OCCUPIED!!!!”
- Wait, wait, wait, it can’t be tapped already. I know I can do better than that!
- I can massage some more out, I know it.
- Oh my god, oh my god, I’m losing my supply. This is it, this is the end of our breastfeeding relationship. I’m not ready!
- Wait, false alarm. There’s the second letdown.
- How long have I been in here?
- I feel like I could’ve gestated another baby in the time I’ve been pumping right now.
- Oh god, THAT’s a terrifying thought.
- Yep, that officially killed the letdown for good this time.
- I’ll just deftly scooooop these flanges off—damn it. Milk all over my pants.
- OK, I have to look at the total ounces so I can label the bag. That’s the only reason though; otherwise I totally wouldn’t even care.
- Ugh. I guess that’s good enough. I’ll just chug even more water before my next session and do better.
- Guess I oughta get started on that. See ya in 2.5 hours, my cold, plastic friend.
…aaand repeat. How do you survive the endless pumping mind-game, mamas?