Breast Pump and Forgotten Pieces – An Engorging Story

pump parts

If you are a fellow “back in the trenches breast-feeding force to be reckoned with,” I’m sure you have your own highlight reel of the days you forgot what you needed to pump.  Days where sleep deprivation turned you into a Mombie who couldn’t complete a checklist of what you needed to take with you.


Little Freakin’ Pieces For The Pump

Do companies really need all of those parts to make the pump work?! Couldn’t we have bras with built in cones and in between thingies without teeny tiny discs that can be lost if a gentle breeze blows the wrong way while you’re putting them on?

**Don’t be a hater and comment that all the different parts are there so that they can be taken apart and sanitized to keep your precious child from infection.  I know all that. This is supposed to be funny.**

A Story About Forgotten Little Freakin’ Pieces

A day that will forever stand out among the many, I had forgotten the in between thingies for my pump.

You know, the technical term for that elbow shaped part that connects the pump line from your pump to the bottle or bag your liquid gold falls into.  Maybe less of a “fall” and more of a “dribbles painfully slow” like for me.

The day stands out because it was my first day where my husband was not able to rescue me right away and bring what I needed. I didn’t have my own car to be able to leave myself and get the part.

**Queue whatever music is appropriate for engorged breasts here.**

Photo by from Pexels

The Maiden Sets the Scene

I had last pumped at 5 am and missed my time to pump at 8 am because of meetings.

I started to get all the parts ready to go at 11 am which is when I realized my stupid mistake.

I tried to think out of the box about how I could possibly make this work with items on my desk like paperclips, scotch tape, and the ever helpful dry erase marker.

Seeing that an alternate engineering plan was not going to work, I texted my husband to explain that my brain had failed me once again and I needed his help.

Photo by Hello I’m Nik on Unsplash

Enter in the Superhero and the Breast Nemesis

My husband, like a superhero saving the damsel in distress, jumped into action and said he could make it up to my office and back home before the furnace maintenance guy got to the house at 1 pm!

Then “Furnace Guy” became my breasts’ arch nemesis and arrived early to take care of the job.

**On a side note, do you think his villain face mask would be made out of an air filter?  But I digress…**

The Maiden Makes a Sacrifice

I told my husband not to make an extra trip to come to my office.  He already had to leave home later to pick up our elementary agers at school and pick me up at the office, all while toting our infant son.

I was determined to be able to hold out until 3 pm when he picked me up.

About 2 pm is when I was unable to put my arms down at my sides.


The Maiden’s Sweet Relief

I walked as quickly as my overly filled milk jugs would allow when my husband texted he was out in front of my office building. He had brought the part and said I could test out our adapter for the car to see if my pump would work.

I was skeptical, but for the 3rd time in our almost 3-year marriage, he was right!

I gingerly strapped on the hands free bra. Next, I slipped the cones in with as little movement as possible and connected the blasted elbow joint to my bottles. Finally, I attached the tubing and turned the dial to slowly get sweet relief.

Photo by David McBee from Pexels

The Maiden Never Wins

Now remember, we still had to go and pick up our elementary school kiddos and I am now pumping in the front seat underneath my coat.

This is not a big deal for my kids because I don’t hide away in our house for breast feeding or pumping and it’s just become part of their world.

The only problem was that my daughter’s friend wanted to say hi.

So, I rolled down the window a crack, like it’s not already a see through part of our car, and said “Hi!” quickly and awkwardly, clearly communicating things were weirdly not quite right to my daughter and her friend.

The friend quickly ran away and my daughter jumped in the car, later to apologize that she may have embarrassed me instead of the other way around.

Why shouldn’t she assume her mom is pumping in the front seat of the car in the Catholic school parking lot?! Duh!

In the end, I survived engorgement and lived another day to forget yet another pump part.

Interested in another laugh?

Check out Gross Kid Stories: My Top 3…So Far! I promise you that it will make you feel better about your day if nothing else.

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