Tuesday, February 27, 2007

You want what?

Dlee, as Grog says. Why didn't anyone warn me working requires communicating in complete sentences?

I made it to noon yesterday before my breasts threatened to explode. And although I'd taken the breast pump along, there is nowhere to actually perform the task - pumping in a cubicle is ... well, something you'd probably see in "the Office" show but i'm just not up for the challenge. And the ladies bathroom has thoughfully placed two armchairs in the hallway area but there is no plug for the pump. Luckily I'm only 10 minutes from home so I toodled off to see my Beloved Offspring (B.O.) and offer him my mammalian bounty.

Mind you, I've been trying to wean Samuel from daytime nursing for the past week. I was holding out for longer and longer before feedings and felt quite triumphant until Sunday night (yes, the night before I my First Day at Work) when I got several impacted milk ducts. My right breast turned into a painfully throbbing globule of hard lumpies that refused to be pumped or manually expressed. A phone call to the nurse elicited a sympathetic but entirely unhelpful recommendation to continue massaging, warming, nursing and pumping and they "should clear up in a couple of days" DAYS?!!! I was suppsed to go to work in less than 10 hours!!! I poured hot water into a tupperware and submerged my right breast (and part of my housecoat) into it, which involved hovering awkwardly over the dining table with a hand towel poised to tenderly pat my steaming, but still lumpy, breast when the water cooled off. Then it was off to the arm chair to pump for a few minutes, all the while gingerly massaging. Change water, and repeat. I was exhasted by midnight, having stayed up past my bedtime for three hours already, and convinced Samuel to try nursing one more time before I fell asleep with the heating pad packed around my lumpy girl.

Miraculously, Samuel nursed twice more over night and she had rallied by the morning. I staggered around getting ready for work and luckily managed to arrive at the new project site without being too much of a hazard to other drivers.

So anyway, I went home at lunch, not wanting to repeat the Clogged Milk Duct Adventure, with rosy pictures of my Beloved Offspring nuzzling at my breasts. It was Not to Be. He barely turned around when I came in the door.

"oh there you are, mummy. Look at what I'm doing! I can wiggle my bum and wave my arms while standing! ... What? milk? nah, I just had some cheerios a while ago. "

I pumped. And went back to work. Sigh. the first Letting Go has already begun and I'm still on Attaching and snuggling and cuddling.

Anyway, work was okay. I seem to be perpetually bored. Maybe it's time for a new job.

3 Comments:

Blogger Turtle Guy said...

"Beloved Offspring (B.O.) and offer him my mammalian bounty."

My, you have a way with words.

9:48 a.m.  
Blogger Turtle Guy said...

You're not posting much... no more "growing up" stories??

4:26 p.m.  
Blogger wthenrest said...

ouch that sounds painful...wow soaking them works??? ok Don't worry B.O. will need you in other ways :0)

10:29 p.m.  

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