Back to work...

Today marks one week since I've been back to work. The moms here tell me that leaving my son will get easier but I can't imagine that it will. This morning I kissed his chubby cheeks a million times, said goodbye and cried the entire drive here. I'm fortunate enough to not have to put my son in daycare - something I just can't wrap my head around - but even leaving him with his father hurts.

I've gained some serious respect for working moms. I come into work every day toting my medela pump in style and 3 empty bottles. I have my time scheduled in the mother's room, 9am, 12pm, and 3pm. Each day during those times I make the trek upstairs to milk myself. You laugh, but that's exactly how it feels. Actually, let me talk about how it feels.

When I gave birth to Sutton I didn't realize the struggle that was ahead of me. I'm not talking about waking up in the middle of the night or learning cues or dealing with a fussy baby - I'm talking about breastfeeding. I'm a redhead, which means I have extremely sensitive skin. At the end of a day full of cluster feeding I'd be blistered and bleeding, covered in lansinoh and dreading covering up my breasts. If a trickle of water from the shower hit my nipples I jumped. The female body, namely the one of a mother, is fascinating. Within weeks I developed nipples of steel and the ability to feed for as long as Sutton needed without any problem. No more bleeding, cracked nipples - I was a pro! Things really fell into place for me at home. I got the hang of this whole motherhood thing and with each week that passed I felt better about my abilities to care for Sutton. I even had him on a schedule... just in time to return to work.

Returning to work is something that I never really hear new moms talk much about. I wonder if this is because they fear being judged by their stay-at-home counterparts. I wonder this because that's exactly how I felt. For me, working isn't something that I can give up 100%. My time at home with Sutton was precious, and being a mother is the greatest thing I have ever done but I need more. Working makes me a better mother. Maybe not working this particular job, at this particular company - but I need to work. I don't understand going through 16+ years of school, spending copious amounts of money and energy all heading for a career just to leave it behind. That's my judgey mom self. We come in all shapes and forms, don't we? I do wish, though, that I could work mother's hours.. that would be ideal. We won't get too far into my job here though, I don't need to pull a Dooce :).

So here I sit in my cubicle with pictures of my son plastering the walls. I think about him constantly, especially during my least favorite activity; pumping. I'm fortunate enough to have a mother's room to use here albeit it one with the sketchiest man EVER sitting in the office adjacent. I feel a dear creepy coworker coming on...

Dear Creepy Coworker,

I know you probably didn't choose to sit outside of the mother's room and I'm sure you don't love the woosh-woosh-woosh sound of my pump every three hours, but I'd kindly like to ask that you not stare at me every. time. I leave the room. You're scary, and not very nice either. Just when I thought you couldn't get any creepier you decided to don an Elmer Fudd style hat, complete with ear flaps and wear it all day. Why would you do this? Are you trying to scare the breast milk out of me? Because it's working.

Signed,

Too freaked out to pump

Okay back to my story. I have zero issues feeding Sutton at home. He happily chows down complete with milk spilling out of the corners of his cute little mouth. When I pump I get crap. By crap I mean nothing. By nothing I mean 3 ounces. My son is a pig, there is no way 3 ounces is sufficient. So this is good right? Crying all day because I miss my son.... creepy coworker..... pumping.... no milk. No sir, this is bad. I'm currently trying oatmeal to increase my supply as well as continuing to pump for 5-10 minutes after the milk has stopped flowing. Remember that part about my nipples of steel? Well apparently when milked to the point of exhaustion they're not so steely. In fact they're bleeding again. I went up for my 12pm milking (moo!) and attached the lovely suction cup to my right side and leaped out of my seat in pain (I'm pretty sure creepy guy was wondering WTF was happening in that pesky mother's room). I have a nice bleeding blister on my right side from pumping. I thought I was over this BS! I reminded myself that I was giving my son the most precious, important gift I could and worked through the pain. I can't really feel my right breast anymore, but I'm going to go ahead and say that's a good thing.

So now that you're completely familiar with me and my nipples, hi! I'm Danielle. I plan to use this blog as a place to talk about the trials and tribulations of being a working mom. Thanks for reading.