Pump Up the Jam

Tomorrow is my first day back and work and though I could write about how sad I am and all of those accompanying hormonal emotions, what I really can't stop thinking about is pumping at work. I am a modest person. I have had boobs since fourth, yes fourth, grade. I was the "girl with the big boobs" in middle school and have been the victim of cat calls by disgusting older men since a young age. All of that has made me a bit self conscious and reserved with the big boobs I was endowed with (save a few years in college when, mostly under the influence of alcoholic beverages, I dabbled in plunging necklines). I am the girl who goes to the bathroom to change in front of other girls. My best friends in college didn't see me undress until we had known each other at least two years.

Everyone said that all modesty would go out the window when I had a baby, but I have for the most part, kept it in tact. So, the idea of undressing the top half of my body is not something I'm looking forward to. Because all of our offices have a floor to ceiling window next to the door, pumping in my office wasn't an option. And so the next best thing was to put me in the server room. I am grateful that my sweet team has apparently made the room into a comfy "Lactation Station," as one of my co-workers called it. Still, in the past, reparimen have walked into that room without so much as a second thought. Can you imagine the printer guy opening the door to find me in a human milking machine? Ugh. The thought freaks me out.

In addition to that aspect of pumping at work, I am concerned with the time commitment. We have billable goals and being away from my desk for 30 minutes three times a day is an immediate ding to that goal. I'm hoping my production stays at its current level and that I can get in and out in less than half an hour (is that a silly goal?). I am not expecting to work while I pump, at least not at first. I know that production usually goes down at first, so I plan to think positive thoughts, look at photos of Sofi (kind of creepy, no?) and picture the milk flowing into the bottles. This is all so weird to type. The only bottles I've ever been concerned about before were the $2.99 bottles of Three Wishes wine from Whole Foods.

I guess I'll find out in the coming weeks if I'll scare an overweight middle-aged man at the sight of my boobs and if I can be as efficient at breast feeding as I am at eating a whole bag of Haribo Gummi Bears.

On a Sofi note, my sweet girl is three months old today! Yes, that is a jean jumper. Joa called it her "J-Lo" outfit.

Three months!