I pull open the heavy door and slip into the warm dark room lugging my laptop and bag behind me. I pause for a minute with my eyes closed before turning on the light. Breathe, just breathe. The quiet surrounds me, soothing me, allowing me to catch my breath for the first time today. A minute is all I have to spare. My breasts are full and aching and I only have twenty minutes to empty them, so I rouse myself, flick on the lights and get down to business.
I pull the pump off the shelf, plug it in, assemble the parts, pop open my laptop and get settled to express some milk. I hate the pump. I hate its ugly brown cover. I hate its relentless suction. But mostly, I hate that it’s not my baby. What I don’t hate is the fact that twice a day I get to step away from my desk, from the constant barrage of questions and demands, and come hide in this over heated office for twenty minutes of peace.
I log onto the computer and check my email. I visit a few blogs and check up on some friends. Sometimes I chat on the phone. And at other times I even do a little work. But for those precious minutes I’m away from my coworkers, away from demanding, needy people, and I can regroup, catch my breath, and get ready for the next onslaught.
Pumping. It’s the new smoking break.
Hey! Check it out! I’m an inspiration.