Friday, March 02, 2007

Now don't get me wrong

Yesterday morning during our break in the presentation/meeting, I was talking with one of my tablemates, who was from Queens. I know little to nothing about New York City, but I did tell her that I have an online friend who lives in Alphabet City. Her eyes lit up and said "I used to live on the corner of Avenue A and 19th!!!!!" So we chatted on about that, passing our time away.

We were originally to have taken a 10 minute break, but one of the participants (a woman) asked if it could be lengthened to 15. My immediate thought: a smoker. So we broke for 15 minutes, instead of 10.

My immediate thought was wrong. Not a smoker. A pumper.

A breast pumper.

How did I know this? Did I recognize the large, cumbersome breast pump equipment when she got up for the break? Did I notice her discreetly carrying two small bags of breast milk back to her place at the table.

No. And no.

I recognized the sound. Whish whish whish whish whish. It brought back many mammaries of when I used to milk the girls for the Monkey because she wanted no part of the source of the milk. She just wanted the milk. In a bottle. So I kept that up for six weeks and I was exhausted. I give props to the moms out there who pump when they need to to maintain that supply so they can go home to their babe and resume feedings.

And it wasn't that I had walked into the bathroom during our break and heard these sounds. No, these sounds were heard IN THE CONFERENCE room. I happened to look over, and I noticed that she was sitting at a table that was in a recessed alcove (but she wasn't ... she was still sitting in the room proper), and I originally thought "oh she must be emailing."

Nope. She was there, milking the girls. For 15 minutes. And there were men the room.

Now ... don't get me wrong. I am all for pumping. I am. In discreet locations. Not in the middle of a conference room where most of the participants are STILL hanging around because they are catching up with one another, getting to know one another, etc.

However, I will have to say I was impressed with the fact that neither pump popped off, spewing milk all over the place. Because I guarantee you that if it had been me who had made that decision, the pumps would have lost their suction, come crashing to the floor, spilling milk all over the place, and I would have been mortified.

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Anonymous Robin said...

If it would have been you, you would have not been whipping those puppies out in public.
I mean FOR REAL!!! I am all for breastfeeding, pumping and the like..but let's remember not everyone is turned on by the idea.
It's not like you can even do that quietly.
I would have been better to light up a crack-pipe during the break, that may have been more acceptable.

8:15 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Wow, that's umm, bravery there. Or dedication to art of nursing.

Though I wouldn't have tried, IF I did, I would have somehow managed to cover myself and everyone within a 20 foot radius of me in breast milk.

10:26 AM  
Anonymous kailani said...

Maybe I'm more modest than most but I would definitely not have pumped in public like that under any circumstances. But that's just me.

2:26 PM  
Anonymous squirrel said...

I think that woman is an exibitionist (spelling?). But then i'm ols school and would think it would be proper to be more modest.
I'm here from Whatever Blows My Skirt...

5:22 PM  
Blogger Awesome Mom said...

I have had to pump in public and it is not fun. I pumped exclusively for fourteen months for my first son Evan. I wanted him to have the best since he was already predisposed to get sick because of his heart defect. If you have a nursing shirt and a hands free pumping set up you can be totally discreet and not show more than if you were nursing in public. In fact you show less since you can cover the pump flanges with your nursing shirt.

1:43 AM  

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The Lovely She, that is me!

I'm a mom of three peeps ... Queen Bee, The Door Man, and the Chandelier Monkey, and wife to Ace, the Helpful Hardware Man. I created this space to get away from the people known as my inlaws, and because life with three kids and a hubby is all Unexplored Territory.

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