My daughter stole my birthday, but I've decided to forgive her and instead write about becoming a mom and her growing up here.
Monday, November 17, 2014
Blood Tears and Breastmilk
Returning to work was predictably hard. I spent the first mornings hour long commute plotting to become a real estate agent trying not to cry and the afternoons screaming at cars to get out of my way. My road rage has increased notably since becoming a working mom. Why are all these jag offs on the road keeping me from my baby? I am no longer apologetic about using the lane that I know is ending to jump to the front of a line of traffic. Suck it, my baby is only awake for a couple more hours.
Things have mellowed out a bit emotionally. That is not to say that Monday mornings aren't just a torture dreamed up by the devil himself, having to leave your baby after spending a blissful, albeit exhausting, weekend with her. It is just that I am getting more used to it. That said, I did have a surprise one of the first weeks I was back that threw me for a loop.
Let me preface this story by letting you know that I, and I have since learned most other pumping working moms, live in constant fear of my milk running out. I have yet to try any of the natural remedies, ie- fenugreek, but I do try to pump as often as possible at work. I have scheduled for three times a day, and when I am lucky, I can get in a fourth. I also pump once before going to bed. G is eating almost 5 oz at each feeding, so trying to produce this is certainly stressful. It felt like as soon as I started working, her appetite jumped up dramatically. Hence all the extra pumping.
Well, you breasfeeding moms may be aware that you can squeeze your boob in order to get more out. Truth be told, the pump works, but nothing is as efficient as breast to mouth contact. So I find myself trying to squeeze every last drop out pretty often.
One day, I am squeezing away, and when I detach, I find that there is blood mixed in the milk on the pump. W...T...F..? I was shocked and concerned. Obviously, my first thought is tumor because while I think my emotional roller coaster has improved, it has certainly not gone extinct. I immediately start texting and emailing Rob. I look at the milk and note a pinkish hue to what my right brest has recently expelled. I don't know what to do. Is it safe for the baby to drink? Should I be icing my boob? What is going on.
I put the milk in the fridge still uncertain. I got back to my desk and after googling, learn that it is a not too uncommon experience. That I have likely popped a capillary in my boob and that baby can drink this milk. It should heal in a couple days if not sooner.
So I got home that night and gave G the bloody milk and hoped she would not turn into a vampire. Well in Africa it is common to drink cow's blood as your daily sustenance. I assume my boob blood is better than cow's blood so I'm not going to worry about it. I'm also not going to squeeze with as much gusto going forward.
Pumping Woes
Last Monday...
This morning, I could not find my badge once I got here.
Normally in my cup holder, I changed purses this weekend and assumed I left it
in the other one.
This is not an issue until I realize, at my desk, when I am
ready to go down to pump b/c I am about to explode, you need to badge into the
mother’s room.
I go ask Alex at the front desk. She calls security, they
say it is facilities’ job. Facilities doesn’t open until 8 am. I wait until 8 and call. They say it is security’s job. I call
security. The guys is like, nooooo
that’s not our thing, so I will check with my manager.
8:20, I need to pump for a damn 9 am meeting. I call security again and they explain they
are no longer allowed to let people into the Mother’s room. Why b/c security is not trustworthy? But they
are still trying to figure out what they can do.
So I go out to my car to TCOB. So I get harnessed up almost fully and Rob
calls and is like, are you sure you don’t have your badge? So with a car seat in the way, I start
searching under the seats and lo and behold I find my badge.
I pull my shirt down over the harness and wrap a scarf
around myself and run inside to the mother’s room to pump. And now I am heading to a meeting and I am
not going to let security know that I found my badge b/c HELLO, why is there
not a contingency plan for this?
Have a good Monday! I
have averted having a minor breakdown so things can only look up from here.
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