Pumping

I’m meeting my Mummy friends tonight for dinner and drinks. Discussions regarding preparations for this get together started a few days ago.

How much are you expressing? How many bottles of formula should I leave?

I have not left Rory for more than a few hours since he’s been born so haven’t really had much need to express. Thank God. But I have a feeling the wine might be flowing tonight so expressing it is.

But he’s been quite unsettled the past few days and been looking for a feed earlier that normal.  I don’t want to risk it.  So here I am, expressing, attached to the breast pump of doom! I’ve been here being milked like a cow for a good 35 minutes and I couldn’t even make a cup of tea with what I’ve managing to get.

I always remember the midwife saying that your nipples should like like a lipstick after a feed. Well, mine look like a stick of peperami after a stint on this bad boy! Seriously , in this day and age you think we would have developed brilliantly efficient breast pumps. Ones that don’t feel like a top of the range Dyson and didn’t sound like a hedge trimmer struggling on large bush.

 

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