A twenty-six moo salute

Today marks twenty-six weeks from E's birth. This occasion should be celebrated: I have achieved my pumping goal.

I have pumped at home, at other's homes, and in hotel rooms. I have pumped in parking lots, on highways, and by the side of the road. I have pumped at work.

I have pumped in the middle of the night and in the middle of the day. I have pumped while E napped, and I have pumped while trying to juggle a crying E. I have woken forty-five minutes early for the past 6 months so that I could pump. I have stayed up later than I wanted to so that I could pump.

I overcame the challenges that arose so that I could continue pumping. I pumped during an earthquake, a hurricane, and a snowstorm. I pumped during a 50-hour power outage. I pumped when I left my charging plug behind in a New York hotel room. I pumped after my first pump wore out and I had to get a replacement.

I pumped for hours a day, every day, for the sake of my baby, with the help, assistance, and encouragement of family and friends, and especially of B, who supported me in my goal, despite its numerous inconveniences.

So what now? I'll keep going, for a little while at least. I recently reduced my daily pumping sessions to 3 and consequently have to thaw some of the stockpiled supply to keep E fed each day. Probably by the end of the month, we'll start supplementing with formula. Eventually, I'll drop to 2 pumping sessions, and then 1, and then stop completely, whenever I decide that I've done as much as I want to, and we'll switch to 100% formula. By then, E will be eating more solids and won't be drinking quite as much as he is now.

To all my pumping sisters, both full- and part-timers, I raise my single, small, celebratory drink to you.