In my entire life, there is nothing I’ve had a stronger love/hate relationship with than my breast pump. I don’t know what I would have done without it, but I never actually wanted to be with it. As one of the gajillion women out there who had a rough go with breastfeeding, pumping took away all the warm fuzzies I got from holding my baby close while he fed, and replaced it with plastic phalanges and a motor. Ugh, just thinking about it makes me want to snuggle my now-toddler. But the thought of not having it? Of not being able to collect milk to feed him when I was away, of not being able to have a back-up option when we needed it? I’m in physical and emotional pain just imagining it. Thank goodness for you, breast pump, you necessary monster.
And the actual act of pumping would always allow my mind to wander in the weirdest ways. In what other circumstances is it OK to attach yourself to some machinery in order to expel and save your bodily fluids? Wait, don’t answer that. Anyway, for the sake of solidarity, I wanted to offer up some of the thoughts I would have while pumping. We’re in this together, ladies. Well, together from behind closed and locked doors. If you’ve endured the blessed hell that is spending quality time with your breast pump, you’ve undoubtedly experienced the following thoughts.