I was at an adult party on a beach last night. The weather was perfect, the food was delicious, the the drinks were flowing. I wore a white dress that hid most of my
fat rolls sins and carried an oversized Tory Burch bag that held 1 credit card, my license, lipstick, and a breast pump.
I brought the pump because when you exclusively nurse your infant you are essentially a ticking time bomb with explosive milk as your Weapon Of Mass Destruction. Right around 8pm I felt that familiar tug that tells your body it’s time to feed your baby.
I reluctantly, but dutifully, left a damn good conversation and made my way over to the hostess with the mostess. I didn’t want to be “that” guest; you know – the one that is super needy at a party with a super chill vibe, so I whisper-asked if it was okay to borrow one of the rooms upstairs.
I pumped while alternating sips of water and Rose and playing Word Cookies on my phone. (OMG do NOT download this app. DO NOT. Just…one…more…word…..) As I was walking down the stairs carrying two bottles full of pumped
wine milk I saw a group of girls I didn’t know chatting in the corner. I immediately felt awkward and self-conscious holding the contraptions. Why did I wear white I think in my head as I made my way over to the sink to dump the milk down the drain, I must really look like a cow. But then I heard the amazing sound of solidarity. “You are amazing!” “You go girl.” “We’ve all been there!” they cheered as I rinsed out the cones. My sheepish grin turned into an all-out smile as I thanked them for their kind words. I think I just got applauded for pumping my boobs. I did, I did!
Sometimes all it takes is 10 words from the Sisterhood to make you remember you’re a warrior. So the next time you see a mom awkwardly caring their own breastmilk at a hip party or struggling with a 2 year old in the grocery store give her a high-five, wink your eye and say “We’ve all been there.”