I vividly remember the moment I turned on my breast pump for the first time. It was a horrifying moment as I watched my boob detach from my body, shoot down a tube and head to the nearest Kroger for milk. I immediately turned it off.
And I feared for my life as I was attached to my Pump In Style Medela Breast Pump (which was plugged into the wall) while thunderstorms and lighting impolitely danced around my home. (And why would you call it “Pump In Style” by the way? As if there is an alternative to being unstylish when pumping out one’s breast.) But it was all worth it – I wanted my sweet baby boy to have a supply of breast milk that would last him till he was 18. He was (and still is) going to be the smartest kid on the block. He would have that breast milk come electrocution, hell or high-water!
Fast forward 2.5 years to the birth of our second son. I couldn’t wait to bond with that precious boy. He was attached to my breast from the second he left the womb. We were a much more successful breast feeding team than me and my first son. But that was soon to come to an end. Due to circumstances beyond my control, I had to quit breastfeeding my son and was left to bond with the breast pump once again. I was quickly reminded of all the many conversations you could have with a breast pump…the things the breast pump would say as it went “in” and “out”. One day it would say “Don’t jump! Don’t jump!” Other days it would say, “Umpaah, Umpaah.” (I could never get Charlie and the Chocolate Factory out of my head after that. Or maybe it was just the chocolate I couldn’t get out of my head.) Anyway, it was something new everyday – It drove me crazy!
So after a three year “on again, off again” relationship with my “stylish” breast pump, I approached my husband about breast augmentation. This was something I had always said I wouldn’t do, but my “stylish” friend had left me no choice. If the Pump taketh, the Doctor giveth! And the Doctor gaveth (after I payeth) two weeks ago this past Friday. Results: I am now a new woman! (And I think my husband is a new man ;o) And it must have made a huge difference as my 3 year old walked in while I was getting into the shower and said, “Whoa, Mommy! What’s that?!” Completely caught off guard I said, “These are Mommy’s boo boos.” (I don’t know?? What was I supposed to say?) Then he innocently said, “Poor Mommy, you have TWO boo boos?? Let me get you an And-Aid.”