Even though my breast pump has been packed away for months now, I’m still haunted by its existence. I don’t know how it’s possible to be both entirely grateful for something, and to hate every minute you spend with it. To whomever engineered the first breast pump, I am forever in your debt, but I’m also glaring at you really, really hard. Of course, I’m not alone in these mixed feelings towards the almighty machine, lots has been written about what it's like to use a breast pump, and the crazy things that go through your mind while you're hooked up to one. It's a culture; it's a lifestyle; it's a burden; it's a blessing; I'm so glad it's over.
In the days of yore, perhaps women spent this time reading or watching TV, or doing any number of things that adult humans can do to amuse themselves while sitting down. I occasionally did both while I was pumping, however, like most women, the number one thing I would do while pumping was amuse myself with my phone. I would check my social media feeds, read up on current events and pop culture, and play my favorite games meant for people decades younger than me. And, of course, I would text. I would text my partner, my friends, and really just whoever popped into my mind at that particular moment (don’t read into that). And yes, over time, it became clear that these texts often fell into a few certain categories, most commonly including: