Pumping at Work

I finally returned to work this week. After being off for almost 11 weeks, it was a bitter sweet return. Now, I love my job. Not many people can say that. I have great co workers, the company is very supportive of families, and I genuinely enjoy working. Coming back to work also presented the challenge of pumping three times a day to replace the meals my daughter was eating during the day.

This meant lugging my double electric pump back and forth every day. It meant trying to get a space at the same times every day. It meant storing the milk safely after pumping. I'll be honest, it's a bit awkward. Under the new federal law, since my employer has more than 100 employees, they are required to provide a space that is private, and not a bathroom. I am so grateful for that last provision. I don't know about you, but I hate the idea of eating my food prepared in the bathroom. So the thought of feeding my tiny, helpless little girl a bottle of "bathroom milk" just feels dirty.

Since the law is relatively new, this meant that our office had not yet built a space for lactation breaks. Instead, HR had spoken to the company president, who decided I could use his office. It felt rather strange to find myself in the company president's office, sitting on the floor behind the door, pumping breast milk. Since his office is on the second floor, it has a window overlooking the stairwell. No one can technically see in, but I'm still super paranoid (being my first week, I'm sure this is natural) that someone will see me. Hence, the sitting on the floor.

The logistics of pumping are rather daunting. I felt pressured to hurry up. Not from anyone in the office, but from the guilt of being away from my desk. It's impossible to rush lactation. The milk will come when it comes, and stop when it stops. This means including set up, and clean up, and the actual pumping time, that I could be away from my desk for about 25 minutes. That adds up over the course of the day. I spoke with HR, and informed them that I'd be taking my breaks in conjunction with my lactation breaks, to minimize the time I spent away from my desk. None the less, I still felt bad. But what can I do? My little girl's got to eat!

I'm very fortunate that my first week back to work, my husband brought our daughter to my office on my lunch break each day. Since he works swing shifts, he's home with her during the day. This meant one less pumping session I had to do each day. So far, I've only had to do twice a day, and it always feels strange to me. Plus, she generally does the work much quicker than the pump does.

The good news, I survived the first week. I worry so much about my supply dropping, not being able to keep up with her needs, and about eventually having to supplement. I hate that idea so much. Now, I know there are many women who choose formula for a variety of reasons. Either they couldn't nurse, their supply just didn't come in, or things didn't work out. Some just choose formula from the start. I'm not bashing moms who choose this route. We all do what we have to do. But for me personally, I want to avoid formula more than anything in the world. I will likely write a post soon about my thoughts and views of formula. However, this is not that post.

I think the most challenging part of the week was finding a consistent space. I can't always expect the company president to not be busy, or on the phone, or even in his office at the same times every day. Since my daughter usually eats sometime between 8:00 and 9:00, I aim for an 8:30 am session. Then again at 11 or 11:30, and one more time between 1:00 and 2:00. Unfortunately, this week I ended up pumping in the HR manager's office once (president was just not there, and the door was locked), and also did a dreaded bathroom pump. I had no other choice, as the HR office was closed, the president was gone, and another co worker with a private office was out of town. I hated it. I hated every minute of pumping in the bathroom, but after going 4 hours, I was starting to feel painfully full. As a result, I purchased a car adapter for my pump, and the president of the company gave me a key to prevent it from happening again.

After I pumped, I stored my milk in the cooler, in my co worker's private fridge. I am so lucky that these guys don't mind my awkward jokes about not wanting someone to confuse it with creamer. It's hard not to have a sense of humor when you feel like a milking cow hooked up to a machine two to three times a day.