It's No Use Crying Over Spilled Milk

By Kati Haney

"It's no use crying over spilled milk."   Anyone who has ever pumped breastmilk would never use this expression!  I've pumped at my desk, in the bathroom, in the car, at my mother-in-laws bedroom, in the vice-president's office.  So, here's a few words about pumping - wherever you do it.

When I returned to work when my son, RJ, was 8 weeks old, I told my boss (who suggested I would pump in the bathroom), "You don't make your lunch there and I won't make RJ's!"   I had grabbed this witty tidbit from a website or book just the night before while preparing for my first day back at the office, and couldn't wait to use it.  Never mind the facts: that my office itself is tiny (only 5 folks) so everyone knew I was breastfeeding and going to be pumping, that there are two bathrooms, each of them large and clean, with electrical outlets and sinks for easy rinsing of my pump parts.  No, no, I was determined to pump in my office. Never mind the facts: I have all the filing cabinets for the entire office along one wall (everyone needs access to those files) and large windows along the other wall.  But when the temp buzzed me with a call during a pumping session in her first week at our office, I asked her calmly over the phist-phist-phist of the pump to tell them I had my hands full and I'd call them back in 10 minutes.  I giggled, she gasped and slammed the phone down - I have no idea what she told the caller.  I will never forget the day that I was sitting at my desk and getting ready to take off my shirt, when I looked up and wondered why I had never noticed what a lovely view I had while pumping.  That's probably because I had remembered to CLOSE THE BLINDS every other time - EEK!

Now I know that I'm lucky as I can be.  I pump in the bathroom, and there's no walking down the hallway with dripping pump horns on the way to the sink.  I don't worry about a visiting vice-president not seeing the sign on my door and coming in to get a file.  We've got a refrigerator in the office that I store the milk in during the day, and when I was very productive, I even had a cache of frozen milk in the freezer at work.  I've figured out a system: I put my pump on the floor, so I can turn the switch with my toe, while sitting on the toilet, lid down, of course, and holding one bottle/horn assembly between my knees, so I can turn the pages of the parenting magazine that's on the tank of the toilet.  The day that I spilled two bottles full of milk into the sink was awful - my boss was a little mystified why I came out of the bathroom crying.  The worry about production is probably the worst part of it for me - measuring in ounces, worrying about a growth spurt that will send him onto formula... But so far, so good.

I wish I didn't have to pump.  I wish we could just cut out the middle step and I'd nurse him all day at work, like at home.  But I've been so grateful to have these months of successful breastfeeding.  Just like a thousand other stops on this motherhood adventure ride, pumping has been wild at times, but I've settled into a groove now.  But hang on, that always means there's a huge hill and another thrill up ahead!