On the Road

As evident by my Oh, The Places That I Pump post, there are very few places where I won't pump anymore. My living room floor, a closet at work, my car.

Yes, my car.

This started when I was nursing my older daughter. I pretty much pumped anytime my husband was driving. Why not? I know I won't need to or be able to feed the baby right then and I am not doing anything else.

Then I started doing it when I was driving. It is actually easier than it sounds. I have a car adapter for my pump and I plug it in and hook up before I go anywhere. Once the pump is started, it is easy to sort of slouch and keep the pump in place.(This is probably how my chiropractor stays in business.) I can generally pull my shirt down over the pump parts or I will wear a sweater I can close over them. I pump for 15 minutes and disconnect. I put the milk bottles in the cup holders and then transfer them to a larger bottle for storage when I reach my destination.

To make it easier, you could use 8 oz bottles. That might eliminate some slouching. If you are in a smaller car, I recommend using a nursing cover while pumping. In our vert small, manual transmission Saturn, I feel a little public and often take extra precaution to cover up.

I am busy. Busy at home and busy at work. Sometimes pumping before I leave in the morning is necessary but impractical. I also don't want to have to pump right as I arrive at work for the day. Pumping in the car gives me the ability to get that morning pump when it is most convenient.

Dressed down

The one thing I hate about nursing? The clothes.

Every time I get dressed, I have to think about whether I can easily nurse or pump with what I'm wearing. Forget wearing dresses or lots of layers that are difficult to pull up or down.

It's summer, well practically (okay, maybe not but it's close), and the sun dresses in my closet are calling my name. I need to wear them! They are cute! But the thought of trying to wrangle down the straps to nurse my child make me feel a little....overexposed. I opt for camisoles under loser-fitting shirts.

I have these dreams that after I am done nursing I will wear dresses every day for a year. I have these dreams where I'll be able to wear any shirt I want without any regard for how well it can accommodate pump shields. Not to mention all the day dreams I have of life without the crunch of nursing pads tucked into everything I own.

The day is coming. Until then, I hope the sun dresses quiet down just a touch.

Counting Ounces

I don't really know how much milk my child gets while nursing. I know there is a formula for weighing them, feeding them and then weighing them again, but I never did that. I assumed they were always eating until full. So, as a pumping mom, how do you know how much to put in the bags?

My younger daughter is happy with five ounces, even at 10 months old. My older daughter was getting between six and eight ounces at this point.

Each child is going to be different.

Many people I know make a few size bags and the combine them to get the right amount. I did it differently. I knew by about 6 weeks she would need roughly four ounces per feeding. So for the first few weeks, I made four ounce bags. By the time I went back to work, I increase them to 4.5. Shortly after that, I moved up to five ounces.

When my day care would report that she still seemed hungry after a feeding, I made smaller bags for them to supplement the larger bags as needed. Then, I just started making my bags larger.

We went off her cues. I didn't go by any charts or what everyone else was doing or even what her sister did.

Work with your childcare provider, tweak what you do and you will find the right combination.

Oh the places I have pumped...

To round up my series on my travels, I decided to post some camera photo pictures of all the places I pumped in that one day on that one trip.

First, I pumped in my car. I don't have a picture of that.

I started in the bathroom at O'Hare Airport. Regular stall using a battery pack. Majorly cramped. I didn't know what to do. I had to stand the entire 15 minutes holding my bag. Not ideal.




Second place was the awesome Hotel Allegro in Chicago. After explaining my lack of enthusiasm for public-bathroom-pumping, they gave me a room upstairs. Not only could I sit and pump, but I was able to watch TV too. Awesome. If only I could have napped on the bed!



Back at the airport, I opted for a family bathroom. While the counter provided a spot for my pump bag, I was once again standing the entire time. However, the electrical outlet provided an opportunity for me to charge my dying phone. (What? That battery was being eaten by all the photos of pumping places!) The downside to this was also that there were only two family bathrooms in this area and people were trying to get in. I needed the room for 15 minutes. Then I probably looked like the jerk who left the family bathroom without a family. But, it was better than a single stall. I say do it if there is more than one.



After our flight was delayed, I had to pump again at O'Hare. I opted to use a closer bathroom so I wouldn't risk missing our flight. This time I took the handicapped stall. I had a hook to hang up my bag as well so I didn't have to juggle it and hold the pump shields to myself. This worked well. I leaned up against the wall. I realized later people were probably wonder what the heck I was doing. I don't care though.

I then pumped again in my car on the way home. This is nothing new for me though.

So there was a lot of pumping, but I made it. Like I said earlier, with three bathroom pumps, I was sort of glad to be dumping it, but all-in-all, it wasn't too bad.

Security

My biggest concern of traveling was airport security. I heard horror stories of mortified moms having their bags ripped apart and milk tested very publicly. I was concerned I'd be there for hours convincing someone that my breastmilk was not an accelerant.

Turns out, not so much.

Airport security is going to be slightly intrusive. They have to be. One guy had a bomb in his shoe, another had a bomb in his pants. Come on people, we want to stay safe right? They are going to look through your purse, which in my case might be more embarrassing that going through my pump. I once found a molded orange in my purse so I have no idea what airport security might turn up. Plus, they are looking at the pump and the milk, not asking you to take your shirt off.

As I said before, I didn't bring the milk back with me due to the medication I was taking so I'm sure that made my trip a little easier. I put my shoes, phone and iPod into a bin and sent it through the machine. I then put my pump on the belt and held my breath. Both times the examiner called a female over and said "i think we have a breast pump." The female then asked me, I confirmed and she carried it to another table. Both times they used a piece of paper or something and just ran around the edges of the mechanism. There was no touching of the shields, no touching of the bottles, nothing like that. I didn't care. It took only a few seconds and I'm sure everyone felt much safer knowing my breast pump wasn't bringing down any planes.

For those of you traveling and checking luggage, don't check your pump. Airport delays and lost luggage happen and you don't want to be stuck without your pump.

Down the drain

So this week, I'm focusing on traveling while nursing/pumping. I traveled earlier this week without my baby. I was only gone a day but I wanted to share my experience with you.

I am a fearful flier. I don't do it well. Though, this trip, I managed to make it there and back with no tears and even some relaxing on the flight. That probably had to do with my incredibly long day and a sweet little pill, Mr. Xanax.

I never flew before September 11, 2001. I hated the idea of flying. Up in the air in a tin can? Why, why would people do that? However, I have had to fly several times since then. Some short flights, some long flights. All met with the same fear: I will die on this trip.

For trip one, I called my doctor's office and asked for something, anything, to help me stay calm. They prescribed a little Xanax and it really helped. I've made the same call prior to each flight. This flight would be no different. I went to my daughter's nine-month well-baby visit last week, explained my plight and my doctor wrote the prescription but with this warning: you'll have to dump the milk for four hours after taking the pill.

This was actually probably a blessing in disguise. Now I didn't have to worry about keeping it cold enough on while I was traveling. I didn't need to worry about that added stress going through security. And I have a supply built up, whoa do I.

But I have to say, after pumping, dumping it down the drain was not easy. I'd just dump it and turn away, remembering that I was dumping it because of my stupid inability to calm myself before and during most flights. Bye-bye liquid gold.

On the return trip, I was so exhausted that I considered not taking the Xanax and just saving the milk, but by that point I had pumped twice and dumped it and I didn't have any bottles or ice packs with me. So I took the pill...mostly because I could. It helped too because we had to fly over some storms.

Dump is never easy, but, for me, neither is flying.

Above and Beyond

This week, I have a series of posts about traveling while pumping and nursing. Today, to start off, I want to tell you about a hotel in Chicago that went above and beyond.

Recently, I had to attend a seminar for work. I live in Detroit and the conference was in Chicago. In order to get there on time, I had to get up at t3:30 a.m., get ready, drive to the airport, fly to Chicago, take the train into the city, attend the conference and then do the entire trip in reverse on the way back home.

Let’s complicate this further. I’m a nursing mother traveling without her baby.

So every few hours, I had to find a place to pump. During the early morning hours I conducted two very tedious balancing acts on the stalls in public bathrooms. I tried not to touch anything. I tried not to fall over. I tried not to dump the contents of the bag I was holding.

But I will do what I have to do for my child.

Our conference was being at the Hotel Allegro. After I ate lunch, I went up to the front desk and asked if there was somewhere besides yet another bathroom where I could pump. The girl at the front desk said “yes, I can put you in a room.” I figured she meant a small office that wasn’t being used or something. Imagine my surprise when she said “that’s room 411” and handed me a key card.

Here I was just visiting the hotel for a conference. I wasn’t a guest. And she was letting me use a room. I took the elevator up and I was so relieved. I was able to sit in a chair and relax while pumping. No balancing act. No toilets to navigate. A clean and safe environment. It was the time that day I breathed a sigh of relief. And also considered taking a nap on the inviting bed, but of course I didn’t.

I can’t tell you how nice that was. For a traveling, nursing mother, you have no idea how nice it was of those working at the desk. Not only did they just out me in a room, they asked about my child and how old she was. It was very sweet. While I wasn’t even staying at the hotel, I felt welcome.

My return to Detroit later that night included two more public restroom visits to pump due to delayed flights, but I just kept thinking that there are good people out there who are around to help us tired, weary, nursing, traveling moms.