Scared to Pump

This weekend I’m going to my first Mom’s Day Out since Turtle was born (over three months ago) and I have to confess: I’m nervous.

No, I’m not nervous about leaving my babe behind she will be in the capable hands of my husband.

What I’m so nervous about… is pumping.

Yup, a nearly 30 year old mother of two is nervous about pumping her boobs.

Me, who is so comfortable nursing and nursed her first child for 22 months, gets nervous at the thought of putting a nursing pump to her breasts.

Hell, I got nervous when I dug it out of storage.

And just looking at it, makes me want to throw my plans to see a movie with the girls out the window.

Why am I so frightened by a piece of plastic, you ask?

No clue.

With my first, I used that god-awful manual pump (it had to be manual, the electric one really scared the crap out of me), three times in the entire 22 months I nursed her.

I didn’t think I would use it with Turtle because it just freaked me out.

Maybe it reminds me too much of a cow. Maybe it seems unnatural to me. Maybe I’m just a little bit odd.

Maybe I just enjoy the skin to skin feeling breastfeeding brings me. The closeness, the contact, the beauty that my breastfeeding relationship brings me.

I can’t get that with a bottle.

I get that with my breasts and my baby.

And for now, that is going to have to be all I wrote and the pump… it’s going back in storage.