Breastfeeding Nostalgia

As I slowly start making my way through the piles of boxes in the new place, I am hit with a wave of nostalgia. Relishing all the time I spent when my kids were just the smallest of babies seems; it seems like it was only yesterday that I was bringing my oldest child home from the hospital. I was wearing a hideous striped maternity top and jean shorts. I was young and didn't have the first clue what to do with a baby, but somehow I entered the hospital with a baby bump and left a few days later with a pink bundle. We stopped at Auntie Donna's on the way home so she could admire the newest member of the family. I swear, that was something like 45 minutes ago. Now she's all grown up and I am trying how to figure out how to keep her little forever. Because once you let one of them grow up, you can't stop any of the rest of them from doing it either.

What triggered this trip down memory lane was the discovery of my Pump in Style Advanced Backpack in a box that I thought needed to be unpacked. For 2001, it was the latest in dual pumping technology. It came in a sleek backpack for discretion and two ridiculous looking suction cup type devices that made it possible to pump in half the time. It also came with four bottles with lids, a milk carrying case and handy re-usable ice back to keep my milk chilled until I could get it to a fridge. I didn't have it when I had the first baby; it took me a while to get the hang of breastfeeding and I gave up too soon. But when the second one was born, I was determined not to give up. So I shelled out something like $350 bucks for one of these, purchased new off e-Bay from a reputable dealer in Canada. I went everywhere with that. I had to travel for work and so on long airplane rides, I would dutifully get up every few hours and hook myself up in the lavatory (it also came with a battery pack for when an outlet wasn't available).

My family joked that my breast milk was liquid gold, and it was. For the times when I had to pour it down the drain when I couldn't get it in the fridge fast enough, I was crushed. All that had work and effort was lost. But over time, I got smarter and learned how to improvise so my milk would stay cold. I bought freezer bags and extra bottles. I combined sessions (you really aren't supposed to do that, but what the hell) so I wouldn't run out.

I was never one of those people who was terribly comfortable breastfeeding in public. I tried to patronize establishments that offered a mother's room or at least a padded bench. I always covered up. But I felt strongly that this was my baby's meal and I would give it to them wherever I saw fit. I supported women who chose to feed in the mall or on the bus or anywhere else. I boycotted businesses that asked women to cover up. It's our sex obsessed culture that saw breastfeeding as "eeewww". Equating breastfeeding to soft core porn offended me.

I always refused to throw out my pump, long past the time when I knew I would no longer need it. It seemed like I would jinx the good fortune that came with my children. I thought about selling it or giving it away (which you aren't supposed to do either, but if you are faced with the choice of a used pump with some new parts or not breastfeeding at all, then that's an easy decision to make), but I never did. Instead, it's been sitting in a box on the top shelf of my closet, only to be discovered today. So I ponder what happened to the last eight years when I could sit peacefully in my recliner with a Boppy pillow around my waist (a must have!) and a sweet nursing infant.

Time to dig out the photo albums and see what other memories I can dig up. Sigh.....