My Pumping Prison

I've mentioned before how much I hate pumping. And every time I think that, I remind myself of the Super Women Exclusive Pumpers who pump many more times a day just so that their babies can have their breast milk, and I tell myself to suck it up and stop whining.

But it occurred to me that I've never really shared much information about the dungeon in which I pump :)

I must say that I am extremely grateful that my workplace provides a specific area for nursing mothers to pump. Federal law requires all employers to allow nursing mothers to take unpaid breaks, and I *believe* Florida law requires any company with more than 50 employees to provide a place for breastfeeding mothers to nurse or pump.

When I first found out I was pregnant, I knew I wanted to breastfeed, including long after my maternity leave would end. I suddenly started looking at my workplace with new eyes. I looked for outlets, for tucked away conference rooms, for bathrooms that received little to no traffic. I feared that I would be stuck sitting in one of the bathrooms, pumping 2-3 times a shift.

A few months in to my pregnancy, I was talking to a friend in human resources about my short-term disability coverage and other specifics of my maternity leave. I mentioned something about planning to breastfeed and her eyes lit up. She asked if I knew about the nursing mother's room.

"The what?" I said.

She took me down a hallway and we ended in front of a door I'd never seen before. There was a sign:

And then she showed me the mini-fridge, the outlets, how the door locked, etc. And while it's nice to have the designated space to pump, I've had several problems:

1. It's ug-lay. This room has no personality, no charm, no warmth. It barely has cell phone reception.

You know you're jealous.

2. The arm chair is good for naps, but not for pumping. It tilts back too far to comfortably pump anything, so that leaves ...

3. The uncomfortable office chair.

4. The security guards (and some former staffers - former, because apparently they were caught) apparently use the room for naps. I found this out one afternoon when I opened the door and a big, burly security guard acted in surprise, saying he was taking a snooze between shifts. I said, "Sorry, but I need to use this room right now." I don't have anything against expectant moms using the room - goodness knows if I knew this room existed when I was in the throes of all day morning sickness, I would have retreated there myself - but I'm not a fan of people looking for a cushy chair parking themselves in there.

5. The room is on the deserted first floor. I work on the third floor, and I often feel like I'm being banished to the basement when I go pump.

There aren't a lot of women in my building who use the room - by my count, there have been three other women who have pumped during my (now 11!) months using the room. I work nights and weekends, and the other moms work Monday-Friday day shifts. I'm sure I could have livened the room up a bit - brought in some posters, fake flowers, air fresheners, lamps, etc. But I don't know what other people like/don't like. Maybe one of the other pumping mamas has a traumatic childhood memory of tulips. Or one of the mamas is sensitive to the smell of a plug-in air freshener? Best not to mess with the room, I decided.

I don't really have fond memories of this room. There have been at least two times when I knocked something over or a storage bag tipped, and I lost precious ounces of milk.

Sad face. Very, very sad face.

The first time this happened, my sister sent me a hilarious card, and it is so, so true:

I was lying awake in bed the other night and calculated the rest of my pumping days (that's how eager I am to be done with the pump). We're going on a trip in a few weeks, and I need to keep up my extra pumping session (the one I do on my way home from work during my work week to keep me from getting too engorged over night) until I have enough milk for 2-3 bottles while we're on the trip. Then I can drop that session. And when we come back to Florida right before (gasp!) Elle's first birthday, I will likely stop pumping at work, too - leaving only 2-3 nursing sessions a day for the foreseeable future. I'm not going to stop breastfeeding automatically at one year - but I not going to stay married to the pump.

My pumping sessions have sometimes brought a much-needed break from work, but it would be nice to not be a necessary break. I work at a newspaper, and the natural course of my shift ebbs and flows, but sometimes there is breaking news and I'm not able to get away to pump. This gets more common in the fall, with hectic football and baseball schedules, and lately I've been stressing about stepping away from my desk to pump. So pumping is not only a pain, it's going to become increasingly more difficult to do in the coming months. My work-time pumping gave me a chance to read books, clip coupons, cross-stitch and catch up on little stuff that I never stop long enough to finish at home, like thank you notes and grocery lists. But that was the only perk. I trek down three flights of stairs each day, lock myself in the window-less room and sit there for 20-30 minutes. On my way in to my office, I stop there and drop my pump off. On my way out of the office, I stop and pick up my pump, pump parts and refrigerated milk. (And let's not even get in to the pain that is the preparing of bottles, cleaning of pump parts and freezing of milk, because 'tis not fun.)

So while I'm glad that I've been able to pump and supply breast milk for Elle (and others!), I am counting down the days til I don't have to worry about it anymore. I have no idea how I've done it this long (except for the fact that I'm incredibly stubborn and kept thinking 'I've made it this far, I should just keep going'). It's been extremely important to me to breastfeed Elle for the first year of her life, but I would be lying if I said I didn't want to stop pumping ASAP.

I have mad respect for moms who exclusively pump - you women rock.And I hope your pumping set-up is a little cheerier than mine :)