Monday, May 21, 2007

Day 99 - First trip away from Little Elvis

I am standing in a dark bathroom stall in my new peep-toe heels, with my dress -- which has ripped up the back -- half off, and my electric breast pump buzzing. The cord to plug in the pump is running under the door to my stall and I'm sure the other women are coming up with crazy scenarios for what I'm doing.

I am not happy.

This is my first real time away from Little Elvis, and it's been really hard.

We're at the wedding of one of Bob's friends. It's three hours from where we live, and apparently northern weddings are really long. (I'm southern, and have seriously never been to a sit-down dinner wedding where you mark on your RSVP chicken or fish. We do buffets.)

I've been stressing about the wedding for weeks. I spent the two weeks we were in Mississippi diligently trying to pump so Little Elvis would have enough food. Well, I ended up with 11 ounces. Seriously, that's all I had!! So my mom, who was really nice to fly back with me so she could watch him, had to resort to formula. (Thank God for all those free samples they kept sending us!)

The wedding was nice and the reception is fun, but I would honestly rather go home and see Little Elvis.

And my breasts hurt. The pumping isn't really relieving the pressure. It gives me 30 minute respites, but then they start throbbing again.

We brought an insulated lunch bag for me to carry the milk and my pump in. So I have to keep going to the bathroom with a lunch bag.

There I have to wriggle around to unzip my dress and then stand up in my heels (can't take them off and stand in a bathroom stall) which are cutting off the circulation to my middle toes as I attempt to pump. I also refuse to sit on a toilet seat in a stall while dressed. You never know what could happen, and I would have found a way to fall partially through and get my ripped dress soaked.

I missed the bridal processional, toasts and the father-daughter dance due to my pumping.

Now my dress is ripped -- guess I'm not quite back to my original size -- and I want to cry. I also called my mom to see how he was doing and I heard him getting fussy in the background (he was ready for his third serving of formula.)

To make matters worse, we are sitting at a table with a very cute 15 month old little girl. She and her parents seem to be having a good time and this makes me miss my little guy even more.

What a mess I got myself into with this. I should have let Bob go to the wedding by himself. He probably would have had more fun. He says he wouldn't though, so I should have worn flat shoes and a button front shirt with a skirt.

Do you guys have any first trip away horror stories?

2 Comments:

Blogger Lainey-Paney said...

I found that my milk production SUCKED with a certain pump, but then did MUCH better with another pump.

What pump have you got?

2:00 PM  
Blogger Pregnantly Plump said...

I've got a first years electric pump. We started out with a manual pump and I was even worse with it. I don't think it's the pump's fault. My mom says I have a block when it comes to pumping -- for some reason I just truly hate it.

7:48 PM  

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