Thursday, September 29, 2011

Goodbye, breast pump! Hello, freedom!

A lactation consultant I worked with once told me that she had a client who pumped so much, she started hearing her breast pump talk to her. It would say, "Get your groooove on. Get your groooove on. Get your groooove on." At first I thought she was nuts. But then the more I pumped (especially in a quiet room without my laptop or other distractions), the more I too began to hear the voice beneath the steady robotic-like rhythm. I guess the brain can't help but put words to repetitive sounds like this, but I think it's more fun to assume the pump has a life of it's own. (For a steep $81 bucks a freakin' month, it should.)
I have been renting a hospital grade breast pump for the past 12 months (due to my initial problems with nursing), and today I returned it to the store. I'm still nursing two times per day, but I am done...DONE pumping. DONE feeling like a cow. DONE cleaning pump parts. DONE hearing the little voice from within! Goodbye my trusty yellow Medela Symphony pump! You've been good to my tender nipples, and I will forever remember how you helped me to meet my goal and never failed to cheer me on.

"Get your groooove on. Get your groooove on. Get your groooove on."

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