The Joy of Pumping

First, let me start off by saying I feel like a cow.  Not because I still have a few pounds to lose or because now I am sporting a pooch or because I am eating like one but because I sit at work multiple times a day with pump equipment attached to my udders, I mean teats, I mean breasts. 

Second, they should make a book much like the Joy of Cooking but about pumping.  It should contain stories of what women have gone though while pumping.  I have a feeling it would be a pretty funny book.  Maybe this book already exists  but I don’t have time to find out or read it if it does.  But in my head I am imagining stories of women getting walked in on by a co-worker, or milk shooting out and hitting their spouse in the face or landing all over their freshly dry cleaned suit, or crying because half and ounce dripped out of their nipples and they were unable to catch it in a container before it hit the floor.  Or yelling at their daycare provider because they “accidentally” spilt a bottle containing 2 oz’s of breast milk.  “2 ounces, do you know how long it took to get 2 ounces!!!!” You know, stories like that.    

Ironically, the one who took 47 months to bring home a baby and couldn’t even get pregnant naturally, produces a lot of milk.  Per kellymom, I’m off the charts for how much I can pump.  Whoohoo!!  I’m sure if I had gotten pregnant naturally and then couldn’t produce milk, I would be sad and defeated so either way you can’t win. Whatever.

FYI I’m pumping as I write this sitting at my desk in my pink hands free bra.  Yeah for technology!

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