Since December, I had an intensely personal and intimate relationship with my Medela Pump in Style double electric breast pump. After fourteen weeks of maternity leave, I returned to my job as an elementary special education teacher. Before returning to work, I promised myself and promised my baby I would try to breastfeed as long as possible. I hoped to nurse Baby C for a year. In order to make good on my promise, I had to pump at work. Every day, I lugged my Medela backpack to school, along with my teacher bag, lunch, and the ever essential travel mug of coffee.
Before I returned from maternity leave, my co-worker and fellow new mama arranged a private, secure place for us to pump during the school day. Our pumping space was not glamorous. We used a forgotten closet that housed a kiln and discarded, dust covered art supplies dating back to the mid-1980's. The floor was covered with dead spiders, dirt, and dust bunnies, but we had a make-shift table (the kiln), a plug, a cracked plastic chair, and a window overlooking the constructon site of our new school. Despite our closet's lack of aesthetic appeal and questionable cleanliness, it offered privacy and security. Access to the closet ensured I could pump each day and spend uninterrupted time focusing upon my baby, or staring out the window hoping the construction workers could not see my breasts.
Each school day, I mysteriously disappeared from my classroom for about fifteen minutes around 10:00. Sometimes I left students unattended, free to draw all over the tables, sniff glue, and search inappropriate websites. Sometimes the students asked, "What do you do on your break?" to which I replied, "I make pottery." I was in the kiln closet, after all. Some days I had to excuse myself mid-meeting for fear that my breasts would explode. I often had to humbly ask the male custodians to unlock my closet, or remove a stack of newly painted canvases from my cracked chair. Despite such embarrassing moments, I pumped twice a day, almost every day. I made good on my promise.
I know that I am lucky. As an elementary school teacher, I work almost exclusively with women, most of whom are mothers and had their own relationships with a breast pump. I have a boss who understands family comes first. Many of my working mama friends are not so lucky. One friend pumped in her office's only bathroom, much to the frustration of impatient co-workers waiting outside. Another friend pumped in her car, even during the winter. A third friend did not have time during her busy day to pump. All eventually gave up breastfeeding before they were ready.
Yesterday was my last day of school, my last visit to my pumping closet. As I closed the door for the last time, I bid goodbye to the dead spiders on the floor and thanked them for allowing me into their space. Last night, I stored my Medela in a closet and thanked her for the memories. I will not miss the daily cleaning of bottles and three thousand pump pieces. I will not miss the stress of making enough milk for baby. I will not miss my dirty closest. Sure, Medela and I will probably have an occasional fling here and there until I wean Baby C in August, but for the most part we are over. I am grateful Medela allowed me to exclusively breastfeed even while working full-time, but I am ready to move on. It is time dump the pump, at least until Baby Number Two comes along.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Chatterbox
According to my mother, the following three things are true: I had a fifty word vocabulary by the age of one. At two, I spoke in complete sentences and carried on mature and coherent conversations with the hairdresser at my next door neighbor's backyard wedding. And, in nursery school my teachers called me "The Girl With the Vocabulary." Whether these statements are facts or gross exaggerations is unclear, however my mother frequently boasts about my early verbal prowess to any poor soul willing to listen.
Now I find myself doing the same about my own baby. Since she found her voice many months ago, Caitlin has not stopped babbling. As soon as she wakes up in the morning, Caitlin starts talking to the stuffed monkey in her crib and the chatter does not stop until she falls asleep at night. Sometimes in the middle of the night, Caitlin wakes up for a moment, babbles, and falls back to sleep, as though she had one last thing she needed to say. Already, I predict she will be the little girl in elementary school who sits alone because she talks too much to her neighbors. She may receive all A's, except for a B in conduct due to "excessive talking." Her high school classmates may vote her, "Most Likely to Host a Talk Show." I know these things from my own experience, and thus far she appears to follow in my noisy footsteps.
Most of the time, Caitlin says, "Ba ba ba ba," "Ma ma ma ma," "Da da da da," or some combination of the three. But recently, Caitlin's nonsense syllables slightly resemble real words. Two weeks ago, we got a new puppy. When Caitlin saw Bella for the first time, she squealed, pointed, and said something that sounded really close to "dog." Now, every time Caitlin sees the puppy she says an approximation of "dog, dog, dog" over and over again. At least, that is what I believe she is saying.
Caitlin is also starting to imitate my own speech, which means I must cut back on the swearing asap. Last week Matt walked into the kitchen as Caitlin took her evening bath. I said, "Caitlin say hi to Daddy." Caitlin smiled, reached out her hands, and said, "Hi Dada!" Matt and I clapped and cheered with excitement, which prompted Caitlin to say, "Hi Dada!" over and over again.
Will Caitlin have a fifty word vocabulary by the age of one? In reality, probably not. But, in my opinion, absolutely yes.
Now I find myself doing the same about my own baby. Since she found her voice many months ago, Caitlin has not stopped babbling. As soon as she wakes up in the morning, Caitlin starts talking to the stuffed monkey in her crib and the chatter does not stop until she falls asleep at night. Sometimes in the middle of the night, Caitlin wakes up for a moment, babbles, and falls back to sleep, as though she had one last thing she needed to say. Already, I predict she will be the little girl in elementary school who sits alone because she talks too much to her neighbors. She may receive all A's, except for a B in conduct due to "excessive talking." Her high school classmates may vote her, "Most Likely to Host a Talk Show." I know these things from my own experience, and thus far she appears to follow in my noisy footsteps.
Most of the time, Caitlin says, "Ba ba ba ba," "Ma ma ma ma," "Da da da da," or some combination of the three. But recently, Caitlin's nonsense syllables slightly resemble real words. Two weeks ago, we got a new puppy. When Caitlin saw Bella for the first time, she squealed, pointed, and said something that sounded really close to "dog." Now, every time Caitlin sees the puppy she says an approximation of "dog, dog, dog" over and over again. At least, that is what I believe she is saying.
Caitlin is also starting to imitate my own speech, which means I must cut back on the swearing asap. Last week Matt walked into the kitchen as Caitlin took her evening bath. I said, "Caitlin say hi to Daddy." Caitlin smiled, reached out her hands, and said, "Hi Dada!" Matt and I clapped and cheered with excitement, which prompted Caitlin to say, "Hi Dada!" over and over again.
Will Caitlin have a fifty word vocabulary by the age of one? In reality, probably not. But, in my opinion, absolutely yes.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Awakenings
This morning at 5:30 a.m. I heard whining. I rolled over and put my pillow over my head, hoping the whines would subside. Instead, the whines escalated to cries, the cries then progressed to barks. Our fifteen week old Australian Shepherd, Bella, was awake and in need of attention.
I nudged Matt. He continued snoring and rolled over, pulling off all of my covers as he went. I hastily threw on my slippers and tip-toed downstairs, hoping Caitlin would not wake up. Bella woke the whole family at 5:15 the day before, which as you can imagine, made for a long day.
Once downstairs, I removed the baby gate from the kitchen doorway, gave Bella a good morning scratch, and brought her outside to use the facilities. At 5:30 a.m. the birds are noisy, the streets are quiet. Bella played in the yard, while I yawned and tried not to get my slippers wet on the grass. I watched Bella eat sticks and hoped her barks did not wake the baby.
After about fifteen minutes, I brought Bella inside and fed her breakfast. All remained quiet throughout the house and I foolishly hoped I could lie down to catch a few extra minutes of sleep. While Bella ate, I left the kitchen and lied on the couch. Within two minutes, Bella jumped onto the couch where she proceeded to nip my hands, arms, feet, and ankles. "Down," I said in my assertive, yet calm dog-training voice. Repeat this scene for the next fifteen to twenty minutes. Finally, my limbs and my patience could take no more. By now, it was 6:05 a.m., which I considered a perfectly reasonable time to wake Matt from his slumber.
As Bella nipped my toe for the sixty-seventh time, I lost my temper, called her a not-so-nice name, and tip-toed back upstairs looking for help. As I quietly entered the bedroom, Matt rolled over and without opening his eyes mumbled, "Did you just get up?" From downstairs, Bella began barking and I asked (a.k.a. told) Matt to take her for a morning walk.
Within a few minutes, Matt and Bella left the house and I laid under the covers, again hoping to sleep just a little while longer. Just as I closed my eyes, I heard the baby awake in the next room. And here we go again.
I nudged Matt. He continued snoring and rolled over, pulling off all of my covers as he went. I hastily threw on my slippers and tip-toed downstairs, hoping Caitlin would not wake up. Bella woke the whole family at 5:15 the day before, which as you can imagine, made for a long day.
Once downstairs, I removed the baby gate from the kitchen doorway, gave Bella a good morning scratch, and brought her outside to use the facilities. At 5:30 a.m. the birds are noisy, the streets are quiet. Bella played in the yard, while I yawned and tried not to get my slippers wet on the grass. I watched Bella eat sticks and hoped her barks did not wake the baby.
After about fifteen minutes, I brought Bella inside and fed her breakfast. All remained quiet throughout the house and I foolishly hoped I could lie down to catch a few extra minutes of sleep. While Bella ate, I left the kitchen and lied on the couch. Within two minutes, Bella jumped onto the couch where she proceeded to nip my hands, arms, feet, and ankles. "Down," I said in my assertive, yet calm dog-training voice. Repeat this scene for the next fifteen to twenty minutes. Finally, my limbs and my patience could take no more. By now, it was 6:05 a.m., which I considered a perfectly reasonable time to wake Matt from his slumber.
As Bella nipped my toe for the sixty-seventh time, I lost my temper, called her a not-so-nice name, and tip-toed back upstairs looking for help. As I quietly entered the bedroom, Matt rolled over and without opening his eyes mumbled, "Did you just get up?" From downstairs, Bella began barking and I asked (a.k.a. told) Matt to take her for a morning walk.
Within a few minutes, Matt and Bella left the house and I laid under the covers, again hoping to sleep just a little while longer. Just as I closed my eyes, I heard the baby awake in the next room. And here we go again.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
California Dreaming
In early May, we took our first family vacation to Orange County, California for my brother-in-law's wedding. While in The O.C. I not only searched for landmarks from the former Fox series (where was The Bait Shop, anyway?), I actually relaxed-something I have not done completely in approximately nine months. We walked along the beach, ate delicious food, took naps, lounged by the pool, and sipped wine on the lanai while Caitlin napped. Even better, we brought along Grammy and G-Pop, who gladly stayed with Caitlin while Matt and I played. This allowed us to celebrate to the fullest, and celebrate we did. Despite all of the relaxation, I did not get very much sleep. Even though our trip was three weeks ago, I think I am still tired. Caitlin loved the California sunshine and was a wonderful travel companion. Sigh, I want to go back....
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Mama and Baby Weekend
Our weekend in Asheville was spent stacking cups, eating, napping, talking, stacking more cups, more talking, looking at mountains, and stacking lots more cups. Caitlin played with her new pals, Finn and Norah, while I spent time catching up with my wonderful college roommates. With two more babies on the way, we need to find some pretty gigantic accommodations for our next Mama and Baby Reunion. If anybody knows of a mansion for rent, preferably on the beach, please let me know. Please enjoy some pictures from our first annual Mama and Baby Weekend.
Caitlin, Finn, and Norah enjoying stacking cups. This scene was often repeated throughout the weekend.
Enjoying the view of downtown Asheville and mountains beyond mountains.
Caitlin and Finn strolling around a park in Asheville.
The Mamas-Mary, Sarah (with Starfish), Caroline (with Dosalita), and yours truly.
Caitlin, Finn, and Norah enjoying stacking cups. This scene was often repeated throughout the weekend.
Enjoying the view of downtown Asheville and mountains beyond mountains.
Caitlin and Finn strolling around a park in Asheville.
The Mamas-Mary, Sarah (with Starfish), Caroline (with Dosalita), and yours truly.
I feel so fortunate to have wonderful friends, healthy, happy babies, and more babies on the way.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Flying Lessons
I am anxious about many things, but flying ranks very close to the top of my list, preceded only by clutter and going to Babies R Us. Fear of flying is problematic for several reasons, the major reasons being: A. I love to travel, and B. My friends are scattered all over the country. So, every so often I am forced to face my anxiety, board a plane, and jet off to a faraway destination, all the while staring out the window praying gravity does not take hold.
Flying solo is nerve-wracking enough, but flying with Baby causes my anxiety level to skyrocket. I postponed flying with Caitlin for almost eight months, but two weeks ago we took our first trip together to Asheville, North Carolina. The week leading up to our trip was plagued not only with excessive over-packing and compulsive toy-buying, but also with night terrors and moderate hyperventilating.
I heard many things about flying with baby. "Buy new toys and present one and only one every half hour." Hence, the compulsive toy-buying. "Nurse baby at take-off and landing. They will sleep the whole way and their ears will not hurt." Not sure about the ears, but nursing soothed Caitlin to sleep for a mere fifteen minutes on our return flight to Boston. "Give baby some Benadryl. It will knock her right out." Ask me again later, but as of right now I do not endorse drugging my eight month old baby. As with any advice, I listened to each piece politely, then decided what would work best for us.
Before boarding our two hour flight to Charlotte, I had a game plan. First, I would nurse Caitlin at take-off. If she fell asleep, I would sit back and enjoy Jet Blue's in-flight television, or catch up on my US Weekly. If Caitlin remained awake, I would present fabulous new toys at different points during the flight and offer ridiculous amounts of Puffs, which keep Caitlin occupied for quite a while. Planning helps me cope with anxiety, and this game plan relieved some of my stress.
Of course, making a game plan for a baby is about as pointless as putting socks on Caitlin's feet each morning. My good intentions always end up thrown all over the floor. As soon as we boarded our flight to Charlotte, Caitlin went crazy, totally excited by the jet's cushioned seats, tray tables, seat belts, and individual televisions. As we took our seat, Caitlin stood in my lap, jumping up and down, yelling "Oh ah!" and "Ah ma ma ma ma!" to the other passengers as they made their way down the aisle. To the great annoyance of the couple in front of us, Caitlin slammed the tray table and seat back over and over again. I could not contain her excitement! I tried nursing Caitlin as the jet taxied toward the runway, which was incredibly awkward due to my inappropriate coverage. After many failed attempts to nurse discreetly, I resorted to the bottle, which most definitely did not soothe Caitlin to sleep. After take off, I tried the new toy trick, which worked for a little while. However, Caitlin's favorite game is I Am Going to Throw All of My Toys on the Ground and Make Mommy Pick Them Up. At home, I do not mind this game. On an airplane, it was an annoyance. Thankfully, we sat next to a lovely older couple who gladly picked up Caitlin's toys over and over again. After I could not tolerate the toy throwing for another minute, I took out Caitlin's Puffs, which are also known in our house as Baby Crack. Caitlin LOVES Puffs and eats them with such exuberance, she is totally addicted. The Puffs kept Caitlin quiet and happy, however she repeatedly banged on the tray table as she impatiently waited in between treats. Again, my apologies to the couple in front of us. Thank goodness I will never see them again.
Toward the end of the two hour flight, Caitlin became restless and fussy. My game plan went out the window. Caitlin became interested in my empty soda can, which I normally would remove immediately. However, I was desperate. The soda can provided entertainment and quelled fussiness, so I let it go this time. After about 10 minutes of soda can fun, I noticed some blood on my arm. Sure enough, Caitlin sliced her index finger on the soda can. The soda can immediately went into the trash and I spent the next several minutes performing baby first aid in the airplane bathroom.
Finally, the bleeding stopped and our flight made its final approach to the Charlotte airport. Caitlin contentedly drank a bottle as the plane landed and our flight ended without further incident. On our way off the plane, Caitlin received Jet Blue wings reading, "Junior Crew," and the flight attendants congratulated us on our first flight. We made it. Despite Caitlin's finger injury, the flight went better than expected. I was so busy entertaining Caitlin, I did not have time to feel anxious. And I learned some lessons which hopefully will make future travel easier. First, I learned to bring a cover up to help me nurse privately. I learned most people love babies and will happily help a mama in need. Last, I learned soda cans are not toys. We fly to California on Wednesday. Let us hope my flying lessons will make for smooth, safe travel on our six (gulp) hour flight.
Flying solo is nerve-wracking enough, but flying with Baby causes my anxiety level to skyrocket. I postponed flying with Caitlin for almost eight months, but two weeks ago we took our first trip together to Asheville, North Carolina. The week leading up to our trip was plagued not only with excessive over-packing and compulsive toy-buying, but also with night terrors and moderate hyperventilating.
I heard many things about flying with baby. "Buy new toys and present one and only one every half hour." Hence, the compulsive toy-buying. "Nurse baby at take-off and landing. They will sleep the whole way and their ears will not hurt." Not sure about the ears, but nursing soothed Caitlin to sleep for a mere fifteen minutes on our return flight to Boston. "Give baby some Benadryl. It will knock her right out." Ask me again later, but as of right now I do not endorse drugging my eight month old baby. As with any advice, I listened to each piece politely, then decided what would work best for us.
Before boarding our two hour flight to Charlotte, I had a game plan. First, I would nurse Caitlin at take-off. If she fell asleep, I would sit back and enjoy Jet Blue's in-flight television, or catch up on my US Weekly. If Caitlin remained awake, I would present fabulous new toys at different points during the flight and offer ridiculous amounts of Puffs, which keep Caitlin occupied for quite a while. Planning helps me cope with anxiety, and this game plan relieved some of my stress.
Of course, making a game plan for a baby is about as pointless as putting socks on Caitlin's feet each morning. My good intentions always end up thrown all over the floor. As soon as we boarded our flight to Charlotte, Caitlin went crazy, totally excited by the jet's cushioned seats, tray tables, seat belts, and individual televisions. As we took our seat, Caitlin stood in my lap, jumping up and down, yelling "Oh ah!" and "Ah ma ma ma ma!" to the other passengers as they made their way down the aisle. To the great annoyance of the couple in front of us, Caitlin slammed the tray table and seat back over and over again. I could not contain her excitement! I tried nursing Caitlin as the jet taxied toward the runway, which was incredibly awkward due to my inappropriate coverage. After many failed attempts to nurse discreetly, I resorted to the bottle, which most definitely did not soothe Caitlin to sleep. After take off, I tried the new toy trick, which worked for a little while. However, Caitlin's favorite game is I Am Going to Throw All of My Toys on the Ground and Make Mommy Pick Them Up. At home, I do not mind this game. On an airplane, it was an annoyance. Thankfully, we sat next to a lovely older couple who gladly picked up Caitlin's toys over and over again. After I could not tolerate the toy throwing for another minute, I took out Caitlin's Puffs, which are also known in our house as Baby Crack. Caitlin LOVES Puffs and eats them with such exuberance, she is totally addicted. The Puffs kept Caitlin quiet and happy, however she repeatedly banged on the tray table as she impatiently waited in between treats. Again, my apologies to the couple in front of us. Thank goodness I will never see them again.
Toward the end of the two hour flight, Caitlin became restless and fussy. My game plan went out the window. Caitlin became interested in my empty soda can, which I normally would remove immediately. However, I was desperate. The soda can provided entertainment and quelled fussiness, so I let it go this time. After about 10 minutes of soda can fun, I noticed some blood on my arm. Sure enough, Caitlin sliced her index finger on the soda can. The soda can immediately went into the trash and I spent the next several minutes performing baby first aid in the airplane bathroom.
Finally, the bleeding stopped and our flight made its final approach to the Charlotte airport. Caitlin contentedly drank a bottle as the plane landed and our flight ended without further incident. On our way off the plane, Caitlin received Jet Blue wings reading, "Junior Crew," and the flight attendants congratulated us on our first flight. We made it. Despite Caitlin's finger injury, the flight went better than expected. I was so busy entertaining Caitlin, I did not have time to feel anxious. And I learned some lessons which hopefully will make future travel easier. First, I learned to bring a cover up to help me nurse privately. I learned most people love babies and will happily help a mama in need. Last, I learned soda cans are not toys. We fly to California on Wednesday. Let us hope my flying lessons will make for smooth, safe travel on our six (gulp) hour flight.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Newsworthy
Caitlin and I made our television news debut on Charlotte, North Carolina's evening news. We spent the weekend in Asheville, NC (which I will write about in a different post), and arrived early at the Charlotte airport for our return flight to Boston. As we waited at the airport, I decided to give Caitlin some wiggle time before boarding our two hour flight. After touring Concourse D for several minutes, I found a nice, open space with rocking chairs and windows looking over a runway. Caitlin and I sat quietly, watching planes take off and playing with stacking cups.
As we sat in our quiet corner of the terminal, I noticed a slick, glossy news reporter and his camera man skulking around uncomfortably nearby. I pretended not to notice the men filming planes just a few feet away from us. Then, I accidentally looked up and made unintentional eye contact with Mr. Slick and Glossy. He waved to Caitlin, I gave him a half-smile and quickly looked down, pretending nothing in the world was more interesting than stacking cups. Next thing I knew, Mr. Slick and Glossy and The Camera Man were standing right over us. "What a beautiful baby. I'm guessing she is......eight months old?" said Mr. S and G. "Yes, almost eight months," I mumbled, all the while giving most of my attention to Caitlin's toys. "Where are you flying today?" he asked. Great, I could see where this conversation was heading. Friendliness by a member of the media could only mean one thing: a request for an interview.
Sure enough, after some small talk, Mr. Slick and Glossy asked if he could interview me about airport security. At first, I politely declined, but next thing I knew, a microphone was attached to my sweater and Mr. Camera Man was ready to roll. Mr. Slick and Glossy asked me a few questions about my thoughts on the new body scanners now in use at major airports around the country. I mumbled a few semi-articulate sentences, while Caitlin went right on playing with her stacking cups. Mr. Slick and Glossy assured me we did a great job and told us to look for the story on the Charlotte CBS website. I am thankful the camera man stood far away and Mr. S and G only used about 15 seconds of footage. I am also thankful I did not say, "like," or "um" during the interview. Caitlin played with her toys during the whole interview, totally unfazed by the giant camera nearby. I am attaching the link to our news debut below. Please enjoy!
http://www.wbtv.com/Global/story.asp?S=12339861
As we sat in our quiet corner of the terminal, I noticed a slick, glossy news reporter and his camera man skulking around uncomfortably nearby. I pretended not to notice the men filming planes just a few feet away from us. Then, I accidentally looked up and made unintentional eye contact with Mr. Slick and Glossy. He waved to Caitlin, I gave him a half-smile and quickly looked down, pretending nothing in the world was more interesting than stacking cups. Next thing I knew, Mr. Slick and Glossy and The Camera Man were standing right over us. "What a beautiful baby. I'm guessing she is......eight months old?" said Mr. S and G. "Yes, almost eight months," I mumbled, all the while giving most of my attention to Caitlin's toys. "Where are you flying today?" he asked. Great, I could see where this conversation was heading. Friendliness by a member of the media could only mean one thing: a request for an interview.
Sure enough, after some small talk, Mr. Slick and Glossy asked if he could interview me about airport security. At first, I politely declined, but next thing I knew, a microphone was attached to my sweater and Mr. Camera Man was ready to roll. Mr. Slick and Glossy asked me a few questions about my thoughts on the new body scanners now in use at major airports around the country. I mumbled a few semi-articulate sentences, while Caitlin went right on playing with her stacking cups. Mr. Slick and Glossy assured me we did a great job and told us to look for the story on the Charlotte CBS website. I am thankful the camera man stood far away and Mr. S and G only used about 15 seconds of footage. I am also thankful I did not say, "like," or "um" during the interview. Caitlin played with her toys during the whole interview, totally unfazed by the giant camera nearby. I am attaching the link to our news debut below. Please enjoy!
http://www.wbtv.com/Global/story.asp?S=12339861
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