Today is World Breastpumping Day! I haven't publicly talked about boobs in a while so I figure it's about time I get back on that horse....cow?
Let's start off by saying that being an exclusive pumper was *not the plan* when I was dreaming of newborn days. But it turns out that an extra teeny, sleepy, preemie is an awful nursing partner and I had a way quieter mind when I could see the number of mililiters he had taken on the side of the bottle. It worked for us. It kept me mildly more sane. Mildly.
Way back before Arthur came along, I already knew I was going to be an ocassional pumper because I wanted to be able to hand over feeding responsibility to Hunter or other caregivers whenever I needed to and I thought I would be going back to work full time after my maternity leave. So it was always a goal to learn how to do it and be good at it. Oh, the things you don't know until you know them.
I had an incredible teacher in the form of a funny and knowledgeable nurse named Angie who got me on the road to pumping while I was in the hospital. Afterward I leaned on my sister's knowledge and two pumping accounts on Instagram to keep me going in the right direction. (Deets: pump_momma_pump and Onewiththepump)
I absolutely did go through a period of feeling deep loss at not having a typical nursing experience. I resented that pumping was not a time to be close to my baby the way that nursing is. I resented that we had *so many* extra dishes to do. I resented that I couldn't leave the house with Arthur knowing I could just nurse him anywhere, instead I would have to bring a bottle and the means to warm it. And on top of all that, I had to bring my pump stuff, too so that I could stay on schedule. Inviting me anywhere was (and is) a comical clown car situation of bag after bag after bag of baby accoutrements.
There are no skipped days when breastfeeding, no taking a break from it when you don't want to. The second rule of breastfeeding is to protect your supply by demanding said supply often or else your body says "Oh, no need? Alrighty, I'll cut back." ***
So when you're completely and utterly over it, over the responsibility, over having to pause your day and stick to the schedule, over the dishes, over the inability to pick up and move around with your baby (wearable/cordless pumps are not the answer for me), over said baby whiiiinnnniiinnngggg (or outright sobbing) at your knees as you pump because he doesn't understand why you can't get thoroughly involved with his playtime and your fingernails are digging into your thighs as you cringe at the very sensation of the pumps - not because they are uncomfortable but because they represent everything that is driving you absolutely BONKERS - and you *REALLY DON'T WANT TO DO IT* (pause to breathe)....you just....do it. Again and again and again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
For three hundred and seventy days. So far.
The only reason why any of this is possible is because of the major support that I have, and I know that I am wildly privileged in this fact. My biggest privilege is that I have Hunter, who used to get up with me for the overnight pumps while Arthur was still in the NICU because he didn't want me to do it alone, who split the nighttime feeding schedule with me when Arthur came home so that I could get a chunk of sleep too, who saves me from the whining baby when he can take a break from work while I pump, who cleans the parts when I've forgotten to get them ready, who double checks my pump bag for necessary supplies before we leave the house (and knows exactly what goes in it and how much of everything I need), who listens to me complain but doesn't try to fix everything unless I specify something, who tells me I'm doing a good job, who tells me he's proud of what I do.
Everyone should have a Hunter.
And at the end of the day, the truth is that I am grateful for my pump even though I could storytell until I'm hoarse about how much of a pain it can be.
I'm grateful for the advancements in technology. I'm grateful for bottles. I'm grateful for wider education about exclusive pumping. I'm grateful for the opportunity to provide in this way to Arthur. I'm grateful that I got a nurse with an IBCLC education (trained breastfeeding expert). I'm grateful that my body said "sure, okay, let's do it this way" and has been trucking along with me this whole time.
My story did not go how I had hoped. Instead it turned into something else completely. It has allowed me to donate milk directly to families in my area who needed it.*** Pumping soothed my heavy heart when Arthur was in the NICU because it gave me something I could actively do for him. My story forced flexibility into my expectations and has kept me humbled ever since...she says as she shouts from the online rooftops about her boobs.
Note:
***If you're curious, the first rule of breastfeeding is "Take care of yourself by any means necessary, physically and mentally, and if that means that exclusively breastfeeding ends up not being your journey, fed is best whether that means supplementing your supply with formula or donated milk or switching to it exclusively. Because a mentally/emotionally healthy mom is more important than what's in that bottle." But that's another soapbox entirely.
Nerd Note:
***Exclusive pumpers are more likely (not always, every body is different) to develop an oversupply due to emptying the breasts completely every time rather than a baby taking only what they need each time. The feedback loop created by this demand tells the body to keep up, often leading to producing extra.