Going back to school/work after Christmas is always hard, but there was one definite positive this week: I’m not pumping milk anymore! We dropped the last middle-of-the-day nursing session over the holidays, when the excitement of travel and new toys made it relatively easy to coax Little Boy into changing his routine. He’s still nursing, but only once a day, when he first wakes up in the morning.
It’s so nice to be done. I didn’t particularly dislike pumping—it wasn’t terribly difficult for me, and my office on campus turned out to be nearly ideal as a lactation space. But it was always a thing to do, a thing that I had to remember to do, a thing that took time to set up and put away. It meant hauling another hefty bag to school every. single. day. and washing a bunch of tiny fiddly pieces every. single. day. It came with a bunch of extra little tasks, like remembering to grab the milk from the mini-fridge at the end of the day, that made my mental load just a little bit larger. Being done means that mental weight has lifted, along with the physical weight of that big ol’ bag. It feels good.