Coming Out Of The Closet

If you're a mother who says you dislike nursing your baby, you might as well just tell the world that you like to kick little puppies too. There's all sorts of pressure to breastfeed after giving birth. After Taylor was born and I survived my near death experience at Kaiser, I couldn't and didn't want to breast feed. But the nursing Nazi's at Kaiser still proceeded to push and push until breast pumps were thrown. No joke. But Corinne's been a whole other experience. I enjoy nursing and am completely thrilled about the benefits it will have for her. I'll do it as long as I can for her first year of life. However, I work two days a week. Thanks to a good friend, I have a pump I can bring to work with me. I went back to work three weeks ago, pump in hand, thinking that a world which emphasizes the rewards of breastfeeding would surely accommodate a working mother who'd still like to breast feed. WRONG-O. "You need a place to do what??" was the reply I got from the administrator at school, when I explained I'd need a little privacy twice a day to pump. Long story short, I'm pumping on the floor of a broom closet in the nurses office. I sit on the floor next to dirty buckets and brooms, praying the janitor won't accidentally come in, and I pump. So much for accommodations. Today I said, "Screw it!" and just pumped in the women's restroom for all to see as they came in to do their business. One teacher came in and was appalled that I had no chair or privacy and vowed to take this matter up with the principal. Lovely woman. But I doubt that our male principal will give a flying you-know-what. But I refuse to sit in that darn broom closet any longer. It's degrading.