There's no use crying over spilt milk.
I get that. I really do.
Unless it's breast milk. In that case, you cry big tears of despair. Cry and cry some more.
At least I do. And I have no shame in that.
---------------
I'm nursing Ezra. I have oodles of friends and family who did not nurse because they tried and it didn't work out, or they decided nursing was not for them, or whatever they made their decision based on that is entirely not my business. I adore those woman, and love their children and have no problem with anyone who formula fed. Kingston and Kyrie were formula fed and they are perfect in every way. So please don't take offense while I sing the praises of nursing for a moment....
I LOVE nursing. Truly. I love it. I never thought I could love something so foreign to me, but I do. Its the most amazing bonding time that only I get with my son. It's selfish, I know. But its so incredible. I've been so lucky in that nursing has come easily to me. I haven't experienced any pain really or trouble with latching or supply.
And now that I'm back at work, I'm pumping and Ezra is getting bottles of my breast milk. He struggled to take the bottle for a long time, but now he's doing great. At least with Papa. He still won't really take a bottle from anyone else. Even Dave. But that's okay, because Papa is the one who watches and feeds him while Dave and I are at work.
So I'm pumping at work like 100 hundred times a day. Basically every time I have a break I pump so that I have enough milk to feed Ezra the following day. And again, I've been SO LUCKY because I have enough to feed him with a little extra left over in case he needs more that day, or a bottle spills, or he doesn't take a whole bottle right away and we have to throw that away and start fresh.
But I hate pumping. Hate it. As much as I love nursing, I hate pumping.
It's really hard at work because I have to put signs up on the doors (all four that lead to my classroom) so that nobody walks in on me. My only alternative to pumping in my classroom is pumping in the bathroom and that is not appealing to me. It's not sanitary, and people knocking on the door every 2 minutes does not make for the best pumping conditions.
Also there are windows in my classroom. In the doors. More than I am able to easily cover. So I have to find a strategic place to pump in the room where nobody will see me if they try to peak in because they don't understand the privacy note on the door. And surprisingly, people don't understand that privacy note on the door sometimes.
It takes up a lot of my extra time at school. That time is usually spent planning, grading, and preparing for the following days. So I have to be an excellent time manager to make sure I get everything done for my job that I need to get done, all while taking care of my family - which is my first priority.
So the other day David and I were preparing dinner together. Reaching over each other and weaving in and out of each other's way while putting food on plates and prepping food and so on.
I reached up through him into the fridge - while holding Ezra - to grab something. I don't even know what. I just know that it probably could've waited until David was done with the fridge or until I didn't have a baby in my arms.
And I knocked the bottle of breast milk I had pumped from that day.
It crashed to the floor and spilled milk everywhere.
And I cried. Over spilt milk. Just stared and cried.
Because that is what you do when you work hard for something for your baby and then it's ruined on the floor.
------------
David handled it much better. Shocker, since he wasn't the one pumping all day long.
But he was right. I have plenty of milk in the freezer stored up for these occasions. And not all the milk was lost.
And at the end of the day, it's still just spilled milk.
Pumping at work for my baby is so worth it to me. It allows me to continue nursing when I am home, which I adore. It allows me to provide for my family in a super rewarding way. It saves us money. And it's the healthiest thing for my little man.
So if a drop or 7 are lost in process, I'm okay with that.
Still worth it :)
I get that. I really do.
Unless it's breast milk. In that case, you cry big tears of despair. Cry and cry some more.
At least I do. And I have no shame in that.
---------------
I'm nursing Ezra. I have oodles of friends and family who did not nurse because they tried and it didn't work out, or they decided nursing was not for them, or whatever they made their decision based on that is entirely not my business. I adore those woman, and love their children and have no problem with anyone who formula fed. Kingston and Kyrie were formula fed and they are perfect in every way. So please don't take offense while I sing the praises of nursing for a moment....
I LOVE nursing. Truly. I love it. I never thought I could love something so foreign to me, but I do. Its the most amazing bonding time that only I get with my son. It's selfish, I know. But its so incredible. I've been so lucky in that nursing has come easily to me. I haven't experienced any pain really or trouble with latching or supply.
And now that I'm back at work, I'm pumping and Ezra is getting bottles of my breast milk. He struggled to take the bottle for a long time, but now he's doing great. At least with Papa. He still won't really take a bottle from anyone else. Even Dave. But that's okay, because Papa is the one who watches and feeds him while Dave and I are at work.
So I'm pumping at work like 100 hundred times a day. Basically every time I have a break I pump so that I have enough milk to feed Ezra the following day. And again, I've been SO LUCKY because I have enough to feed him with a little extra left over in case he needs more that day, or a bottle spills, or he doesn't take a whole bottle right away and we have to throw that away and start fresh.
But I hate pumping. Hate it. As much as I love nursing, I hate pumping.
It's really hard at work because I have to put signs up on the doors (all four that lead to my classroom) so that nobody walks in on me. My only alternative to pumping in my classroom is pumping in the bathroom and that is not appealing to me. It's not sanitary, and people knocking on the door every 2 minutes does not make for the best pumping conditions.
Also there are windows in my classroom. In the doors. More than I am able to easily cover. So I have to find a strategic place to pump in the room where nobody will see me if they try to peak in because they don't understand the privacy note on the door. And surprisingly, people don't understand that privacy note on the door sometimes.
It takes up a lot of my extra time at school. That time is usually spent planning, grading, and preparing for the following days. So I have to be an excellent time manager to make sure I get everything done for my job that I need to get done, all while taking care of my family - which is my first priority.
So the other day David and I were preparing dinner together. Reaching over each other and weaving in and out of each other's way while putting food on plates and prepping food and so on.
I reached up through him into the fridge - while holding Ezra - to grab something. I don't even know what. I just know that it probably could've waited until David was done with the fridge or until I didn't have a baby in my arms.
And I knocked the bottle of breast milk I had pumped from that day.
It crashed to the floor and spilled milk everywhere.
And I cried. Over spilt milk. Just stared and cried.
Because that is what you do when you work hard for something for your baby and then it's ruined on the floor.
------------
David handled it much better. Shocker, since he wasn't the one pumping all day long.
But he was right. I have plenty of milk in the freezer stored up for these occasions. And not all the milk was lost.
And at the end of the day, it's still just spilled milk.
Pumping at work for my baby is so worth it to me. It allows me to continue nursing when I am home, which I adore. It allows me to provide for my family in a super rewarding way. It saves us money. And it's the healthiest thing for my little man.
So if a drop or 7 are lost in process, I'm okay with that.
Still worth it :)
2 comments:
I think you just vocalized what every working, nursing, mother feels. Love nursing, HATE pumping. It's a necessary evil. And I, like you have plenty to spare, but seeing that milk spill? Oh goodness is it sad. So sad, you cry. Once, I was so tired that I poured milk into a playtex drop in bottle without the drop in liner. As I watched it spread across the counter and run onto the floor, I screamed NO NO NO!!! And then I cried, cried a lot. We've all been there.
My sister and I called our pumped breast milk liquid gold. And I have cried over spilled liquid gold too. :) You are such a great Mommy!!!
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