Had an odd conversation with my father yesterday. We were trying to figure out the logistics of us (my dad, brother, sister-in-law, husband, myself and dad’s gf) going to see a New Year’s Eve concert. Really, I’m the only logistical problem because I’m a nursing mother. The concert was going to be about an hour or more from my dad’s house. The concert could easily go 3 hours, if not longer. So we were looking at being away from the baby for at least 5 hours, but more than likely longer.
I can be away from the baby/breast pump for about 4 hours, I have hit five hours, but things start to get very uncomfortable for me. I have plenty of stored milk, so I knew that the baby would be okay if we were away for an extended period, but the question is, where would I pump? The concert would be at a stadium. If we didn’t get a hotel room close to the venue, then I am looking at pumping in the car, which is an option, but kind of crappy or finding some other building.
My father questioned me (maybe jokingly, I don’t know), “You nurse in public, why can’t you pump in public?”
One, my father has no idea how a breast pump works, heck, he bought the thing for me and didn’t even realize that is what he was purchasing. Two, I don’t think pumping and nursing is anywhere near the same. He is ignorant to this topic, so I guess I have to give him a little leeway, but really? My mind immediately started to visualize this scenario.
Me…at the stadium…music blaring, people singing along and dancing, me sitting next to my family and a bunch of strangers, shirt hiked up high, my Medela Pump In Style Backpack, sitting on the sticky floor, battery pack attached, with my breasts being suctioned. Everyone can see all parts of my chest, due to the wonderfully clear attachments. I don’t think I would have any let-down issues during that scenario. Sarcasm!!!
Or the other vision was me, in a restroom, at the stadium, trying to find an outlet, but I can only find one that is stationed next to the sinks. So, not only does everyone else get a nice view of my breasts, but I get to stand and watch the milk drip in to the bottles and see all the mortified faces of drunken women on New Year’s Eve. Maybe I could even get splattered with the spray of the faucet while they washed their hands. Even better, for me to get some privacy, I find a stall with an outlet and get to balance the pump on my lap while I sit on the toilet, watching feet stand at my door and women trying to peek under and see if anyone was in there.
No thanks. I’ll be sitting on a couch with my baby in arms instead.