All about Breastfeeding

Sometimes breastfeeding upsets my stomach. It feels like there is a hook and line attached to my pubic bone and it is slowly being pulled out through my esophagus. It makes me sick, sore and swollen. When I thought first of being a mother i didn't dream of sitting in a bathroom with a mechanical mouth pulling food from me. I hear the whir of Industrial white noises as I sit on my feeding throne. The chair has wheels so I can cart it back and forth, to and from my desk and my, well other desk.
One desk has a modest computer and shared phone. It's smothered with pieces of my personality flare from the years I have been employed here. It has a comfy black arm chair hugging under the slightly too short desk. I get business done here.
My other desk is tiled with a sink basin in the center. It holds my breast pumps duffel-like bag. Conveniently, the bag has a mini cooler in it with removable ice packs to store pumped milk. Inconveniently, I forgot to grab the ice packs out of the freezer this morning rendering it useless. I hope people at work don't mind the little bottles of breast milk I put in the break room refrigerator. As I am writing this with my thumb, on my phone, one handed in the bathroom, the batteries in my pump have died. It is a good thing I snagged the gigantic ancient AC adapter to plug it in. Wait, is there absolutely no plug outlets in this bathroom? Figures, guess I will have to improvise at my next appointment with my pump in 3 hours. I feel awfully American assuming there would be accessible electricity in my flush toilet bathroom office.
It seems my life is in 3 hour increments.
Here I am 3 hours later siting in a coworker's office taking advantage of the outlets. It feels like my chest might explode if I didn't start pumping soon. All I can picture is a cow with a sagging full utter. Moo. I am glad the guy evacuated his office with only a couple of jokes. "You need me to grab you a big gulp cup?". I feel like I am in high school again.
I hope I make my milk quota today. I am not sure if I drank enough water, I'll cross my fingers. I feel like I should get a gold star when I produce enough. Maybe I need to make myself a chart and buy some star stickers to track what a good milker I am.
I do like breastfeeding. Though i cried and cried when my milk came in, I really enjoy feeding the baby. I wish I could bring the babe to work with me. I know my milk is good for the little one. My husband told me to commit to it if I choose to breastfeed. It is a love hate relationship. It doesn't work too well if I cry about it everyday.
I am glad I can provide for the little one. And it is a plus at night to not have to get a bottle.
At lunch time I pass on the onions and beans... And caffeine, cheese, hummus, tomatoes and chocolate. Well that is a lie I still eat chocolate, So sue me.
One thing that is interesting about storing liquid in my mammary glands is the produce different amounts of milk. This leads to different size boobs. That's right I said it, I now have one bigger then the other.
Why am I writing all of this? What is the point of this piece of writing? Well it is a confession I guess. I understand why some women choose not to go through this ordeal. I myself am taking it a day at a time. It is challenging to go to work and still stick to feeding the baby with Mother's milk. Not only does it make your hormone levels wacky but it is uncomfortable. This is my women war cry saying "I can do this and I am awesome for it!" I think I am mostly saying, "Hey new moms, I relate. It will be okay. It will all work out." So thumbs up to everyone who sticks to it and "Thanks for your best effort" to those who have tried their hardest because IT ISN'T EASY. Or maybe it is easy for some, It is getting easier for me.
This week I had the CEO of my company ask why i was taking a chair with me into the bathroom... it was kinda funny.

Love, Mimi