I haven’t talked about boobs in a long time so I figured I was due. Yes, I’m still nursing Felix. I’m not tired of nursing my son, but I am getting really really tired of the pumping. For a while at work it was really nice. There was this nice lactation room and initially it was only myself and one other lady that were using it. You could pretty much go in there whenever you wanted to and do what you had to do. Shortly thereafter there were at least six of us trying to use it. Schedules were made. It got ridiculous. All it took was one phone call running long and you missed your appointment. To put it mildly, it is unrealistic to attempt to schedule bodily functions to that fine a degree.
I gave up on the lactation room after that. There was even talk of “stalls” being put in there. I had already called it the dairy farm, but talk of stalls was my (cow)tipping point. I was fortunate in that my former boss was really amazing about the whole thing. For months he would simply vacate whenever I needed to get in there. Granted I tried to schedule around him as much as possible (during lunches, etc). Now I have a new boss Mr. Grumpypants. He’s actually a wonderful guy, but my breasts simply are not on his radar screen. Usually that would be a good thing. But now? Not so much.
So here I am, at least two months away from being able to wean my son. As with Stella, there are things about nursing that I will miss. That sweet little body curled up next tome. The little hand reaching up to tug at my hair or pat my face. But I have to admit that the situation at work has gotten really stupid. It’s only been two weeks and I’m already sick of walking out to my car three times a day, trying to keep myself discreetly covered in the front seat while pumping. Sure, I did this with Stella too but at least then I could go in the backseat where the windows are tinted. Now my backseat is clogged up with car seats so my pump and I are riding shotgun.
I’ll be sad the last time I nurse Felix. I’m proud of the fact that I’ve been able to nurse both of my kids so successfully. But it’ll be nice to be able to drink however much I want of whatever I want whenever I want. It’ll be nice to be able to run a series of errands without having to worry about either hauling the kid along with the feedbags or getting back in time for him to utilize the feedbags, or wait, maybe I should thaw a bottle. It’ll be nice to be able to put something on that fits and maybe looks good without having to think about access. I think I have about 6 blouses that I can wear, and many of them are downright slutty now from being pulled down for access. Who knew operating boobs could be so complicated.