Not that I'm counting, but it's about one and a half months before Noah can start drinking Cow's Milk.
I'm spending longer and pumping more often at work, which means I'm roaming the halls in search of a vacant private office, working and answering the phone to the whir of the breast pump. I've also started pumping at night before I go to sleep. Pumping just got a lot slower and less effective around the nine-month mark. I'm also going to be away from Noah [one day in April] from very early to very late as I fly to Pittsburgh for the day, and figuring out the logistics of traveling, presenting at a conference, pumping and checking in breastmilk is a little daunting. Almost as daunting as being away from Noah for 16 hours.
Pumping has the growing potential to be something I'm grumpy and complain about. But that's not really what I want to do with this post. I think I complain about pumping because I want to lauded for doing this really great thing for Noah. And you can't really be praised for something that's not painful, right? mmmmm? hmmm.
But I'm actually really proud of having made it this far, and feeling like a martyr for a good part of the day just doesn't make mathematical or emotional sense. Which doesn't stop me from occasional whines of "wow, this is hard". But for the most part, pumping is just pumping, as much a part of my day as anything else. Which may sound kinda new agey, but I reckon for me it's core-Christian stuff, where we're present and with God as much as we can be, even during the mundane parts of our day.
It makes me think about commuting- where commuting often feels like in-between bits of life, but given that I'm in the car an hour every day, it's actually a big part of the substance of my life, like cooking or baking or cleaning house. So on the one hand, I'm inclined to try to shift my life in favor of less commuting time, more baby-time, less pumping time, at least for some future imaginary baby. But on the other, I'd like to be present in the commuting and the pumping for as long as those things last.