I’m going to apologize in advance to all my male readers for my excessive boobage talk. I can’t help it though. I need to vent. I just laid my precious breast pump to sleep yesterday. We part ways. We had a love/hate relationship...that we did.
It all started right after Parker was born. I needed to use the pump, but had a hard time starting the relationship. I blame it on the slew of postpartum hormones and my need for everything to “go perfect” with the whole breastfeeding experience. I had picked up the pump a few times and just cried. Perplexed on “how am I suppose to use this thing and think of my baby. THAT IS SO UN-NATURAL!” Fortunately, I got a hold of myself and later realized how liberating pumping would be. I could leave Dan with a bottle so I could hang with some friends, perhaps get a pedicure or a massage or even get my highlights touched up. Then we became BFF’s
That was until Parker became a curious jumping bean around 8 months or so where during the day, he wasn’t as interested drinking. He’d MUCH rather be on the floor, wiggling around with his army crawl, and that’s when I realized that I needed to pump more so he could get the fluids that he needed. Jump over to a month later, and he didn’t want to nurse at all. SO… Yes…I had to pump ALL the time. My supply wasn’t that of a normal breastfeeding Mom who could slow the sessions down to 3-4 a day, and still get adequate milk, No…no, no. I had to do a minimum of 6 sessions just to get 25oz, which is at the lower end of what is recommended at his age. That is when I started to HATE my pump.
So, today… I celebrate. Me and Medela go way back, but we’re taking a MUCH needed break. I start to think of all of the things I can do now that we’ve broken up, and it makes me ecstatic.
I can remove all of the “reminders” off my outlook calendar to pump
I can spend time cleaning the house OR taking a nap instead of pumping or washing pump pieces
I can wear a REAL bra!
I can go to a girls night out without asking “will there be somewhere I can pump?”
I can work without visiting the mother’s room
I run, and my boobs won’t hurt
I can eat and drink whatever the heck I want (or at least in theory)
I can go on an extended girl’s trip without Parker (Labor day wkend, here I come!)
I can go on a family vaca without being embarrassed by onlookers staring at me pumping in my car…Yikes!
I can have ANY extended time away (if need be) without fear that my boobs will explode
I can sleep in and roll over and whisper “it’s your turn” on a Saturday morning at the first sounds of Parker babbling in his crib.
It’s SO liberating. I haven’t felt this free since I discovered organic pizza. Let my NEW life begin!