Empowered By My Breast Pump: Finding My “Mom Confidence”

29 months. That’s how long we were together. My breast pump and I. We were inseparable: the park, family gatherings, concerts, and even work. The mere thought of being apart sent me into an absolute panic. And don’t even get me started on the vacations! Through airports, the beach, and even countless hours on road trips, we tackled them together.

Looking back, it is safe to say that no one prepared me for my relationship with my new best friend, my breast pump.  

While sitting in my birthing classes, I took copious notes on how to get the baby to latch and the importance of different feeding positions. All of these notes were of little use to me once my baby was born because it became quite apparent that I was not good at breastfeeding. My son and I got off to a rocky start in the hospital room, and I immediately felt defeated. As my lip started to quiver over my inadequacies, the lactation specialist wheeled in the breast pump.

While I was not good at breastfeeding, it turned out I was excellent with the pump. Since I am a competitive person by nature, I had to switch my baby feeding goals. I was determined to provide my baby with as much as milk as humanly possible, even if he could not latch. My confidence grew with every milk pouch I was able to put in the freezer to prepare for my return to work.

My husband and I became a milk making operation. He would wash countless pump parts every evening and afterward would rotate the milk supply, taking bags from the freezer to thaw in the fridge and moving the stock around so that none of them were lost to an expiration date.  By the time we had our second baby, we were a well-oiled machine.

Over 29 months {total with both babies}, I dragged my milking equipment everywhere! {Party bus at a Kid Rock concert? Check}. But there was one very vivid pumping experience that happened early on that gave me a confidence boost that I needed to make me feel like I was winning at this motherhood game. Our first born was six-weeks-old and we were ready to start showing him the world. We had spring break plans to fly down to Florida, and things could not have gone smoother, at first. As we checked our bags, the lovely Delta agent bumped us up to Business class. The flight was textbook with our little angel sleeping the entire time.

The trip home would prove to be more eventful. The airlines changed our flight times and this time around we had a connecting flight. None of these changes fit in with my pumping schedule. I found myself running around the Atlanta airport trying to find a place to pump before we boarded the next plane. It quickly became apparent that my only option in the terminal would be a public bathroom. Once I came to this realization, I handed my swaddled newborn over to my supportive hubby, and grabbed my stylish pump bag and marched into the only empty stall I could find. The bathroom was bustling and I was mortified. This was a part of motherhood that no one had discussed with me.

I placed the pump bag on the coat rack and hooked up. For twenty minutes, I listened to the familiar “pish-poosh” rhythm while trying my hardest not to touch anything. Countless women of all ages walked into that bathroom during that 20 minutes, and several of them commented: “what is that noise?” I could feel my cheeks start to get warm from embarrassment and that’s when I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

It was at that moment that I realized how awesome I really was. I am a firm believer in #fedisbest, but I reminded myself that I was exclusively providing the nutrients for my child when I had initially thought it would be impossible. As a new mom, I had felt VERY unsure of whether or not I was going to be a  “good” mom. In that bathroom stall in Atlanta, Georgia, I gained my “Mom confidence” and I’ve never looked back.

Now I am positive I am going to be a good mom, no matter what obstacles are thrown my way.

Where is the craziest place you’ve had to pump?
Where were you when you gained your “mom confidence”?