Perils of Pumping
From the Huffington Post and BlogHer
Here is item no. 300 of things I never thought about before I had a baby: Do you pump in public bathrooms? To me the breast pump symbolizes the inherent conflict of contemporary motherhood. How wonderful that we have the freedom to leave our babies while we work and still nourish them with our milk. But how awkward and strange it can be.
Yesterday I piloted my “Pump in Style” breast pump backpack (a black nylon Prada circa 2000 wannabe) outside the house to attend a small industry meeting to network and meet potential employers in my field. I knew I’d be away from the house long enough that I’d have to pump or suffer.
When it came time to pump, I went into the public bathroom, and just couldn’t do it. As I wrote on BlogHer.com, “What if a potential employer walked in? Would it produce a moment of compassion and shared understanding among women or would it be awkward and TMI, like running into the boss the morning after drinking too much at a holiday party? Or was I being immature and it wouldn’t faze an innocent onlooker? I don’t know. Even my husband and sister can’t bear to look at me in pump mode, and I don’t blame them.
Pumping is extremely humbling and awkward. Like a mammogram, you jam your breast into an uncomfortable plastic tube. The pump stretches your breast and makes a strange noise, like a wheezing metronome. You must contort your body into awkward positions. Pumping is also very boring, and aggravates any tendency to carpal tunnel syndrome. But we do it, because we love our babies and our freedom.
I chickened out of the bathroom. I sheepishly asked if there was a private office available, and there was. Phew. I closed the blinds, locked the doors, and sat there alone.”
And if you haven’t read Jill Lepore’s excellent article on the evolution of the breast pump and its role in our workforce, click here.



