These past few posts on I Guess Im Due have been focused on the truth behind the ta-ta's. So let's keep the theme going with a pumping post from Samantha. This momma shares some moments in her pumping journey & these pumping parties were keeping her life entertaining. And when you're a breastfeeding mom, pumping is always an unpredictable party! Enjoy her stories in her own words below...
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My I Guess I’m Due story comes at the cost of my pride and whatever little dignity I had left as a woman. What I am about to confess are my most embarrassing moments of pumping in the adventures of motherhood.
After 9 weeks of staying home, I went back to work. I am a teacher, surrounded by teenagers. Most of my embarrassing stories are from school situations. As if being naked on a table, while giving birth isn’t embarrassing enough for you, let the Pumping Parties begin…
50 Shades of Milk
Let’s first start off with the “pumping bra”. Shopping for one was an experience in itself. The ad for the bra was hilarious… the packaging showed a skinny blonde model, pumping hands-free (thanks to this bra) all while typing on the computer, smiling. My first thought is there is no way that this model is actually a nursing mother.
1) That ridiculous flat stomach could not have held a baby anytime in the last two years (could it have?!)
2) Her hair is washed and she has make-up on. What new mom has time for that?!
3) Her house is clean.
50 Shades of Milk
Let’s first start off with the “pumping bra”. Shopping for one was an experience in itself. The ad for the bra was hilarious… the packaging showed a skinny blonde model, pumping hands-free (thanks to this bra) all while typing on the computer, smiling. My first thought is there is no way that this model is actually a nursing mother.
1) That ridiculous flat stomach could not have held a baby anytime in the last two years (could it have?!)
2) Her hair is washed and she has make-up on. What new mom has time for that?!
3) Her house is clean.
So, case closed. Regardless of the advertisement, I bought the bra. I get home and tear open and try on my new purchase. Picture this- a black bandeau bra that zips up the front. Oh yeah- and there are holes where your nipples are. The image is nothing less than what you read in 50 Shades of Grey. Except, way less hot. When I showed it to my husband he actually laughed out loud. “Where are your ass-less chaps?” he asked. Men.
Despite its embarrassingly erotic look, the bra was everything it promised it to be. It held the pump in place perfectly and allowed me to do important things, like check Facebook.
Pumping While Driving
Among the important things the bra allowed me to do was driving. Now first let me say that I do NOT recommend pumping while driving, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
I was running late to work one morning and I didn’t have time to pump before I left the house. I used a converter to plug the pump into my car outlet, took off my shirt, put the bra and pump on and off I went. I stopped my McDonald’s for breakfast and when I rolled down the window to pay the cashier, she did a double-take. “Don’t judge me,” I told her. She just laughed and handed me my change.
When I got to my school’s parking lot, it was time to take the pump off. Thank God it’s 6am and still dark outside! Next, I pour the expressed milk into the storage baggies and accidently spill some on my pants. Oh well, at least it’s not spit up. And so my day begins.
Locked Out
Before school starts we have pre-planning week. This is my first day back to work and thus my first time pumping in a professional setting. During this week, some students come in and help the teachers set up their classrooms. I assigned the students to different teachers and sent them off. Then, it was time to pump. So I lock myself in my classroom closet and begin. As I’m pumping I hear my classroom phone start to ring. No biggie- they can call back later. Then it rings again. And again. So, I turn the pump off, unplug the tubing and run across the room in my bra and half-filled bottles to the phone. “Mrs. Moody- can you send some kids to room 701 to help me hang up posters?” Clearly this call couldn’t wait. I obliged and go back to my closet, only to realize that I’m locked out. Great.
After 2 minutes of panicking, in walks one of my female students. “WAIT!” I yelled, enough to stop her in her tracks. I hid behind my podium and asked her to find my Department Head and get the keys from her. She returns in what seemed like FOR-EVER and brought me the keys all while never taking her eyes off the floor. Great- so this bra/funnel/half-filled milk bottles looks also scares young girls. Hopefully this was enough to scar her from having sex. EVER.
Milking the Cow…
I can’t tell you how many lunches I ate with my best friend at work in that closet. She would tell me her adventures of single life, while pretending to not mind the freak show that was happening before her eyes. How she took me seriously, I have no idea. We’d laugh, cry and swap stories all to the annoying hum of that lifesaving pump.
I recall one particular day in detail. My co-worker was out for the day and some of my students were eating lunch in my classroom. I lock myself in the closet and begin pumping. I hear my classroom door open and this is what ensues…
Principal: “Where’s Moody?”
Student: “In the closet.”
*Principal tries to open the closet door. It’s locked, thank God!*
Principal: “MOODY!”
Me: “Yes?”
Principal: “What are you doing in there?”
*Awkward silence*
Student: “She’s milking the cow!”
Principal: “What?”
Me: “I’m pumping.”
Principal: “Oh, uh. Just, uh, come see me, uh after…”
And just like that, he was gone faster than my chances of ever wearing a bikini again.
Do What You Gotta Do…
I’ll leave you with this final story that was both embarrassing and validating. Halfway through the football season, we were scheduled to play a team in Tallahassee. I have this brilliant idea about taking some of our students up there on a charter bus. 120 high schoolers on a 4 hour bus ride, what could possibly go wrong?
When we got to Tallahassee, we went to a mall so the kids could eat in the food court. I headed to the bathroom to pump. The bathroom in the food court did not have an outlet. Neither did the second, third or fourth bathroom I tried. Finally, I headed into Macy’s and found a bathroom with an outlet. Of course, by the sinks for all to see. Desperate, I plugged in the pump and got to work. I had nothing to cover up with so I just stood there in all my milking glory. Three women came in, all stopping in their tracks before ducking into a stall. The last women came in and when we made eye contact I just shrugged my shoulders. “Do what you gotta do, girl!” she said. And just like that, I didn’t feel ashamed to be pumping in public. I was proud. I was working, living my life and still being the best mom I knew how to be. So what if I had a few embarrassing moments? Not only did I bring a tiny human into this world, but now I was providing food for him. What’s your superpower?
Despite its embarrassingly erotic look, the bra was everything it promised it to be. It held the pump in place perfectly and allowed me to do important things, like check Facebook.
Pumping While Driving
Among the important things the bra allowed me to do was driving. Now first let me say that I do NOT recommend pumping while driving, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
I was running late to work one morning and I didn’t have time to pump before I left the house. I used a converter to plug the pump into my car outlet, took off my shirt, put the bra and pump on and off I went. I stopped my McDonald’s for breakfast and when I rolled down the window to pay the cashier, she did a double-take. “Don’t judge me,” I told her. She just laughed and handed me my change.
When I got to my school’s parking lot, it was time to take the pump off. Thank God it’s 6am and still dark outside! Next, I pour the expressed milk into the storage baggies and accidently spill some on my pants. Oh well, at least it’s not spit up. And so my day begins.
Locked Out
Before school starts we have pre-planning week. This is my first day back to work and thus my first time pumping in a professional setting. During this week, some students come in and help the teachers set up their classrooms. I assigned the students to different teachers and sent them off. Then, it was time to pump. So I lock myself in my classroom closet and begin. As I’m pumping I hear my classroom phone start to ring. No biggie- they can call back later. Then it rings again. And again. So, I turn the pump off, unplug the tubing and run across the room in my bra and half-filled bottles to the phone. “Mrs. Moody- can you send some kids to room 701 to help me hang up posters?” Clearly this call couldn’t wait. I obliged and go back to my closet, only to realize that I’m locked out. Great.
After 2 minutes of panicking, in walks one of my female students. “WAIT!” I yelled, enough to stop her in her tracks. I hid behind my podium and asked her to find my Department Head and get the keys from her. She returns in what seemed like FOR-EVER and brought me the keys all while never taking her eyes off the floor. Great- so this bra/funnel/half-filled milk bottles looks also scares young girls. Hopefully this was enough to scar her from having sex. EVER.
Milking the Cow…
I can’t tell you how many lunches I ate with my best friend at work in that closet. She would tell me her adventures of single life, while pretending to not mind the freak show that was happening before her eyes. How she took me seriously, I have no idea. We’d laugh, cry and swap stories all to the annoying hum of that lifesaving pump.
I recall one particular day in detail. My co-worker was out for the day and some of my students were eating lunch in my classroom. I lock myself in the closet and begin pumping. I hear my classroom door open and this is what ensues…
Principal: “Where’s Moody?”
Student: “In the closet.”
*Principal tries to open the closet door. It’s locked, thank God!*
Principal: “MOODY!”
Me: “Yes?”
Principal: “What are you doing in there?”
*Awkward silence*
Student: “She’s milking the cow!”
Principal: “What?”
Me: “I’m pumping.”
Principal: “Oh, uh. Just, uh, come see me, uh after…”
And just like that, he was gone faster than my chances of ever wearing a bikini again.
Do What You Gotta Do…
I’ll leave you with this final story that was both embarrassing and validating. Halfway through the football season, we were scheduled to play a team in Tallahassee. I have this brilliant idea about taking some of our students up there on a charter bus. 120 high schoolers on a 4 hour bus ride, what could possibly go wrong?
When we got to Tallahassee, we went to a mall so the kids could eat in the food court. I headed to the bathroom to pump. The bathroom in the food court did not have an outlet. Neither did the second, third or fourth bathroom I tried. Finally, I headed into Macy’s and found a bathroom with an outlet. Of course, by the sinks for all to see. Desperate, I plugged in the pump and got to work. I had nothing to cover up with so I just stood there in all my milking glory. Three women came in, all stopping in their tracks before ducking into a stall. The last women came in and when we made eye contact I just shrugged my shoulders. “Do what you gotta do, girl!” she said. And just like that, I didn’t feel ashamed to be pumping in public. I was proud. I was working, living my life and still being the best mom I knew how to be. So what if I had a few embarrassing moments? Not only did I bring a tiny human into this world, but now I was providing food for him. What’s your superpower?
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