My Third Job

Pumping. To any and all women who have hooked themselves up to this I-don't-know-if-I-should-praise-or-curse-the-Medela-God-breastpump, you deserve a hundred thousand gold stars in my book. I've been at it for 4 months now, 5-8 times a day (I went down to 5 after the pediatrician looked at me like I had lost my mind when I was waking up in the middle of the night every 3 hours even when Camille was sleeping 6-8 hours). So, the day begins at 4:45 AM and ends at approximately 10:00 PM, and every 4-5 hours, I sit and win pigs. You what, you ask? If you've ever heard a breastpump in action, you'll never forget its distinctive "uh-wooga, uh-wooga." Well, one early morning during the early weeks after Camille was born (obviously, when else would I hook myself up to this machine?), I must have been so sleep deprived that I swear I heard the machine say, "Win-A-Pig, Win-A-Pig." So ever since that night/morning, I've been winning pigs. Now, there have been other phrases that I've "heard" such as "We need help" (I'll say!), "Wake Up!" "Heave Ho!" and "Win a goat!" but win-a-pig just stuck. Now the caveat to all this is that I feel lucky the technology exists to be able to provide breastmilk to our daughter and that I'm in a position to pump at work and pump at all! So of course it's not all bad. But...increasing the amount of formula Camille gets is looking mighty attractive!

Hail to the pump parts!

Bottlepalooza!


The beautiful result...


The happy customer who makes it all worth it...