Life thoughts while pumping

I’m currently sitting in the only conference room in my office without windows (actually, it’s the only space in my office without windows period). I’m on my second pump of the day and thought it might be fun to present a few thoughts I have while pumping. It’s like Belle Live!, only post-pregnancy.

I will never get over how weird it is to take my shirt off at work. 

[Puts on hands-free pumping bra and fires up the trusty Medela…]

I mean, my shirt AND bra are off. At work! So weird. 

My boobs are technically covered at least, should someone stumble in. Mostly covered. 

I like when I remember to wear a pumping friendly outfit – a tank and cardigan – that way I get the most coverage even with my boobs out. 

Ugh. I can hear my (male) coworkers talking outside of my room. That makes being shirtless even weirder. 

(Shirtless at work!)

I wonder if they can hear my pump. 

[Tries not to think about coworkers anymore lest this whole situation feel even more awkward.]

At least I can play on my phone in here. Pumping pre-smart-phone days must have been super boring. 

I bet that’s how men feel about going to the bathroom pre-smart-phone days. Why must they always be in there for like half an hour?

[Checks latest game]

All right, got my tasks done – feed ALL the farm animals!!

Ugh, I need to pee. I always forget to pee before I take my shirt off. And it’s not like I’m going to put my shirt back on just to pee. 

Honestly, that’s the worst part about this pumping business – taking my shirt off a hundred times a day. Or, you know, like three times, but it feels like a hundred times. 

And forget about wearing a dress! Like I’m gonna sit in this room naked. I would freeze. Plus, can you even imagine how weird it would be???

(Naked at work!)

[Massaging breasts which is really just fancy talk for moving the flanges around]

I always like when the milk spurts with enough force to hear as it hits the back of the flange. Much better than the slow dribble. 

My boobs are really uneven. I hope they even up after I stop nursing. 

Speaking of, what am I going to do with myself when I stop pumping?! I’m going to have so much free time!!

I could take up a hobby!

And quit timing my meals!

And quit timing my caffeine consumption!

Plus! No more taking my damn shirt off a million times a day!!

Ahhhh, a girl can dream. Only four more months. 

Or I could always switch to formula. 

But then I’d miss nursing on the weekends. Plus nursing’s just so easy. 

I will not say free, cause my time is worth a lot. (So there, imaginary argumentative naysayer!)

I mean, I’m hooked up to this pump three times a day for 25+ minutes a session, five days a week. That’s a lot of time!

Ok, but seriously, how much longer for this session??

[Checks timer]

Argh! At least another five minutes. 

I seriously envy the ladies who can pump in like 15 minutes. 

Or the ladies who can just pump once for every bottle. 

Or the ones who still meet the demands of their babies!

Seriously, I spend so much time hooked up to the pump and I STILL don’t collect enough. 

Must. Stop. These. Thoughts. 

[Pulls up baby photos. Again.]

My baby sure is cute. 

Ugh. Coworkers outside of my room again. Just chatting it up. 

I should join in on their conversation one day. Just like yell through the wall. That would be hilarious. 

I wouldn’t even have to yell because I can obviously hear them just fine and they’re not yelling.

On second thought, nevermind. I mean, what if this led them to realize they could talk with me through the wall and then they started asking my questions while pumping???

Cause that would be even more awkward than sitting here shirtless. 

[Checks timer. Again.]

25 minutes!! Oh thank you!!

And fin.

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