Pump It Up

Now that PDG is in daycare he has to take a bottle.  I was nervous about how that would all go.  I mean, he has taken them on occasion before, but not with any consistent pattern. I had heard that some babies transition better than others or might try to hold out for the real deal all day long.  That and the whole fear of "nipple confusion."

Quick aside: I don't think babies are ever really 'confused.'  I mean, maybe they get angry that bottles can flow faster than their mama's hoohas and yet provide less skin-to-skin comfort, but I'm pretty sure they know one from the other.

Back to the bottles though, I really didn't know how much to send.  The all-knowing internet gave me some equations and I guessed 16 ounces for the 9 hours he'd be gone.  I dug some out of the freezer stash, got the bottles all labeled with name and date and hoped he'd be cool about it all.

Turns out, not only does he like the bottle, he insists on holding it so that no one takes it, even when he's done.  Crazy boy.  Sometimes he even will cry when he's done.  That is, until he's distracted by anything shiny, crinkly, or hanging in his face.  Typical boy...

So since he is such a good eater I have had to turn into a pumping machine.  If this is TMI, sorry.  Earlier this year we invested in an electric pump with the hopes of me needing it while working.  My school even has a large storage closet that has been converted into the "mommy room."  The four of us pumping teachers all have keys and there is a special sign that we put out when we're in there that says "Mom at Work."  Inside is a comfy chair and big table, plus it's right by the bathroom for any sanitizing we might need.

That is, until this week.  Now there is a partition in the room so that two people can pump at once.  It's crazy awesome.  It's also really weird.  Friday I was in there eating my lunch the first time I shared the room.  I heard someone else come in, and while I ate my sandwich, hooked up to my little machine, and looked at my 400 photos on my phone of PDG I heard her machine turn on too.  I suddenly felt like a cow in some milk factory and very self conscious.  I knew who it was because she had announced herself when she came in, but otherwise we said nothing.  There was just the wha-shoo-wha-shoo of our pumps disguised as tote bags.

I don't know if I'll honestly be able to keep this up all the way until March, but it's good to know I'm in a school that supports it if I want to.  Maybe as PDG starts eating more solids he won't need as much milk during the day?  Or maybe it will get easier for me to relax and drink enough fluids?  Or maybe I'll get pregnant again before then and not be able to continue? (that's another topic for another post on another day).

At any rate, for now, PDG and I are hitting a routine together.  And at 5:45 on any weekday morning, you can see the amazing balancing act of PDG on one side and the pump on the other.  If there is any confusion going on in this house, it takes place when he stares at the attachment and wonders why it must make such a loud noise while stealing his milk.