I got up at 5am and got ready for work which began bright and early at 7:30am-I was not too peeved about getting up so early because I was told this was a short assignment and that I would be done and on my way home by 2pm. I packed my portable pump and all its parts even though I was convinced I would be able to make it until I got home.
I should have known things were not going smoothly when it took everyone over an hour to organize before the meeting even began-not to mention the fact that the lady leading the meeting was in from the left coast where she had been fighting some nasty virus so she was all jacked up on cold meds and jet-lagged, which made her noticeably absent-minded, forgetful and a constant source of snot and germs.
As we got underway things began rolling and we accomplished a lot prior to lunch. With only one more chunk of material to review before calling it quits, I was hopeful that I would still be heading home by 2pm. As we got to the budget piece we hit a major snag-no one could agree on anything and the discussion flood gates were opened. I felt my neck tense up as my breasts began to harden. All I could think was "thank goodness I wore a dark suit with a dark shirt."
I quietly observed and tried to take my mind off of the searing pain in my boobs. Boobs that had become so engorged my nipples were at 90 degree angles. What could I do, turn to the chairwoman and ask her if I could please be excused to go to my car and pump?
Now at this point you are probably feeling a little bit of sympathy for me and my poor boobs-remembering a time when you used to breastfeed and you were in my situation-or maybe you are asking yourself, why is Daphne an idiot-why didn't she go out to her car and pump during lunch? Well, I thought about that, but because we were doing SO well time-wise before lunch, everyone agreed to take a 30 minute lunch in the cafeteria right across from our meeting room. To make matters worse, the building that we were meeting in was a government facility and "unimportant people like me without badges of their own had to have an escort through the insanely HUGE building just to get from the security front desk to the conference room," so I would have had to ask security to take me to my car and wait for me while I pumped.
Needless to say, going out to my car and pumping was not exactly an option and to be honest at lunchtime I didn't need to pump yet, and I didn't know the afternoon was going to head south so quickly.
The minutes dragged on and before long we had spent over two hours beating the crap out of some budget issues. The back and forth arguing was making my head spin and throb, which was a good thing because it took the focus away from my boob pain and the fact that my breasts had started to leak milk-yes, breast milk all over my nice cashmere sweater.
The day that was supposed to end at 2pm wrapped up at 5pm-thank goodness I bill hourly- and I packed up my stuff and walked as quickly and gently as possible out of the building, with my escort of course, to my car. At this point I could barely lift my arm and stick it out the window to hand the garage attendant my parking sticker. All I could think of when I got to my car was getting on the pump to stop the pain.
Enter problem two of the day. My car was parked in the middle of a government lot at 5pm on a Friday-people that I work for and with were passing my car on the way to their cars so that they could head home for the weekend-without proper cover I didn't want to whip my boobs out like it was Mardis Gras for all of them to see. I decided to just get home to my baby ASAP.
Enter phase three of breast hell. It's Friday the 13th at 5pm and everyone is trying to head home so the traffic SUCKS. At this point I am basically crying my boobs are so full of milk. I begin massaging my breasts to try to relieve some of the pressure, but that does nothing for me, but intrigues many people in nearby cars. I have spent half an hour going 2 miles-I cannot take it anymore.
I hook up the pump to the battery pack and stick it under my now drenched shirt and I begin to pump one handed while driving. Probably highly illegal and yes very dangerous, but I did what I had to do. I am pretty sure if a cop saw me and pulled me over I would have gotten a ticket or arrested, but at that point I didn't care about such things-saving my boobs was my only concern.
Ten minutes on each side and my boobs are back to normal and I am able to field my husband's calls from home: "What are these bumps on Bruno's butt, Where is the baby's extra milk, What's for dinner?"
While I don't recommend EVER putting your boobs in this type of situation, I do hope you at least chuckle knowing that it happened to my boobs and not yours.
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