Momma, Work, Pump, Work, Momma, Blog

The spark that once died with the rhythm of my daily life, has been reignited.  A realization that I have been sitting still has propelled  mind expansion.  The outside world might hardly say I sit still.

Everyday of the week, same routine...  Starting at about 4am. Or sometimes 2am, depending on how much little Iris has had to eat the night before. Or depending on how late I worked the night before.  The little girl loves the boob.  So I breastfeed twice in the wee early hours, while everyone else is sleeping.  At 6:30am I wake up to get ready for work, and breastfeed once more.  I then drive my 3 year old to daycare... sometimes with lots of tears.

I jump back in my car to pump on the way to work.  With both child birthing experiences under my belt, I have lost all sense of modesty.  My body serves a different purpose.  In the interest of time I "pump and drive".   What does that mean? It means, that I put my cape on. (AKA Hooter Hider), then strap on a suction cup on each breast. There is a system that collects the milk under either breast. The suction attaches to tubing, that attaches to a pump. The pump makes the most awful sound imaginable... a groaning, dying cow. Other pumps I have sounded a little better, but not nearly as efficient. If relaxed, I can pump about 6 ozs in 8 minutes. Not too shabby. Once I am all strapped into my pump which is held up by a bustier type of bra (with strategically placed holes for the nipples); I buckle up and get going.   If all goes according to plan, I arrive at work with my first pump out of the way.

Once and a while,  there can be a hiccup.  That's where it all gets quite comical.  I'll never forget the one time while driving in the Castro, suction was lost. Once I arrived "safely" at a stop light,  I started futzing around with my equipment. At some point  I must have abandoned my mommy cape.  Frantically trying to get to a good place, I look up to see the status of the light.  And that's when I realize that I am not alone.  My eyes meet a young gay couple... They are hand in hand... stopped like a deer in the headlights (No Pun Intended)... smack dab in the middle of crosswalk. Necks crooked staring at me. Horror. I'd like to say that I wanted to cry, but all I could do was laugh. And laugh. I quickly fix my apparatus and drive away with a wink and a nod.

Lunch Break comes - pump again.   4pm comes - Pump again.   7pm head home, breastfeed. Get kiddos ready for bed.  Give them as much love/attention as possible in the next hour. Little one usually requires extra nursing/bonding... Sound asleep at 10pm most nights, ready to start the next day at 2am or 5am, depending on my luck.

I don't write this to complain. I am happy that I can breastfeed my children. Now that I got this mommy thing down, Iris has been easier to breastfeed. So it is enjoyable... With Laurel, my first, I had about 8-10 cases of Mastitis. A painful breast infection that makes feeding extremely uncomfortable.  Soon after all the medication my thyroid gave out. I am pretty sure the 2 are linked. But my life is pretty good, I have 2 healthy children... I am able to provide milk to them and I am gainfully employed. I know things could be a lot worse.

 Breadwinner, breastfeeder, mama extraordinaire. It's exhausting.