A major misgiving I’ve had post-partum was that in Canada where I grew up, I would have had a whole year of maternity leave — a luxury I do not have in the US. I originally requested for the maximum amount of leave – 18 weeks: 6 weeks paid federally through FLA, and 12 weeks unpaid but the state would guarantee my job was secured through the FMLA. I wanted to breastfeed as long as possible, and finding childcare was daunting and stressful. At 6 weeks, I remember looking at the clock each night at around 9pm, knowing that my daughter would be awake and irritable for the next 4-5 hours straight. Each night I would do this, and there was no way to get a jump start on sleep by going to bed early. I was upset for the plight of the American mother, and baffled that so many woman can do it.

Women who go back to work at 6 weeks, I humbly bow down to you. I had been looking into a nanny at the time, and I quickly realized the help I needed most to get me back to work wasn’t while I was at work (although that is obviously necessary), but at night so I could get more than 5 hours of sleep by the time 7am rolled around since my daughter usually slept from 2am – 2pm. We had introduced a bottle at about 4 weeks, but by 6 weeks she wanted nothing of the sort. Fast forward to 16 weeks and she still hated the bottle and her sleeping patterns hadn’t improved.

P U M P I N G  A T  W OR K

My job as a pharmacist was an hour commute away, and it involved customers that showed up at the counter every 1-2 minutes. In a day that would span 10 hours out of the house, there would be no time to pump other than the commute and possibly a lunch hour if I got one. If I am the only pharmacist on duty I need to, by law, either close the gates and lock down the pharmacy, or not permit anything to be sold in the pharmacy if I need to go pee. So for me to take a 15 minute break to pump in the solitude of the back room is not a viable option.

I asked a colleague how she pumped at work until each of her kids were two (I believe she was one of those mighty Americans that went back at 6 weeks), and she said simply, when a customer needed help, she would stop and help them and then go back and pump. What I had thought this meant was she took off her gear, walked out, then returned and re-hooked herself up. I pondered this while I was pregnant, and after a couple months asked her again. Then I realized that she didn’t unhook herself — she simply walked out with a nursing cover to go help the customer, flanges and all. I can be pretty forward and ballsy, but I didn’t think I could personally pull that off. So many people in my parent-baby classes that go back to work eventually just switch to formula because it’s so difficult to continue pumping at work.

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So I asked to extend my unpaid time off past what was guaranteed to me by the state, and pushed it to January 1st. I wanted to breastfeed as long as possible, and with not being able to guarantee pumping at work (I realize I am entitled to this by law, but when things are busy, customers are demanding, and I have no one to take over for me, it’s hard to squeeze in), I figured this would help. As 18 weeks loomed closer, I realized that I could do without the one hour commute and decided to step down from my manager position and was able to extend my leave even further till February 1st. By then Winter would be six months, starting solids, and hopefully needing less milk?

It was a nice thought at the time, but I now realize she still needs all that milk. I decided to go back to just weekends to start and see how it went, then add days during the week if it went well. Weekends were doable because my parents travel down from Vancouver, BC every weekend to help take care of the baby. During the week would be a little more difficult to finagle care, but we’d cross that bridge when we got there.

G O I N G  B A C K  T O  W O R K

I was set to do weekends at my favorite store in the whole chain, so I had something to look forward to, despite my anxiety about pumping and childcare. I tried not to think about it too much over the next week, and then the night before I began to gather up what I needed. I started making a list at midnight of what I’d need to do and get laid out for work the next day…this was 12 hours before I needed to leave for my shift, and I don’t recommend that or doing it right at bedtime. Needless to say I’m a total procrastinator, but at least I work well under pressure.

  • Sterilize 8 oz bottles
  • Freeze Ice Pack
  • Find breast pump car lighter adapter
  • Bagel, Apple, Granola bars, Ensure
  • Shoes, Dress shirt, Pants
  • Pumping Bra
  • Straps for pumping bra
  • Compression Stockings (they’re the only way I can keep standing for an 8 hour shift)
  • Gloves for compression stockings
  • Lab coat
  • Name tag
  • Paper copy of pharmacist license
  • Print emails with instructions and passwords for the day
  • Print email request from student

I ran through the house like a madwoman and managed to gather everything. As usual, Winter went to bed late at 1:30am, and she woke up to feed at 7am and 11am and continued her “overnight sleep.” I slept in (with the 7am nursing) until about 11am.

I had some cereal, nursed, and had to get ready quickly for a 12:30pm start. If I had more time to prepare, I wanted to pump on my way in the car, or before I started my shift, but I didn’t have that luxury. Ideally my plan was to pump on the way to work, pump on the one break I would get while the second pharmacist was there, my husband would bring Winter during my lunch break to nurse, and I could pump on the way home.

M Y  F I R S T  D A Y  O F  W O R K

This past Sunday was my first day back at work in 6 months. Like many pharmacies, I had only 3 hours of overlap with another pharmacist, after which time it is near impossible to be hooked up to a pump and keep working and helping customers. I went for a break 1.5 hours into my shift to pump and I ended up going into the manager’s office. I put all the flanges and pumping gear in a ziploc bag afterwards and put them in the fridge so I didn’t have to waste time washing, and I went back to work.

My legs became fatigued from standing, and I realized that I haven’t actually stood at work for probably a whole year; I broke my toe when I was about 4 months pregnant and sat on a stool at work up until the day I gave birth. The afternoon was pretty slow so the other pharmacist went home early. I wasn’t too worried because my husband was going to come during my lunch break and he could take over for me in the pharmacy (he is a pharmacist for the same company). I got a call from him in the late afternoon that Winter hadn’t eaten well all afternoon and with her currently sleeping, she probably wouldn’t be ready to go out until around 8pm. My shift would be over at 9 so he didn’t see the point of bringing her.

It started out as a super busy day, died down for a little bit, and then at dinnertime I had someone drop off a prescription that I could tell was a forgery. Many pharmacists don’t even bother dealing with forgeries, because it involves tracking down the doctor after hours, calling the cops, and stalling the patient all the while trying to keep filling other prescriptions and helping other customers like everything is totally normal. It’s usually a very stressful situation and can span 1-2 hours of the day. It’s also not that common to get a forgery, so it was an interesting welcome back to the workforce for me. Luckily for the patient (and for me), I could not get a hold of the doctor to confirm the prescription, so she went on her way to go try her luck at another pharmacy.

I wolfed down the bagel I packed for dinner while still working. The 9pm pharmacist was stuck in traffic, so I ended up staying until 9:30. I clocked out and pumped in the office for the second time that day, 7.5 hours after the first session.

I arrived home at 10pm. My parents and my husband had spent 4 cumulative hours trying to give her a bottle, and she was probably wearing most of the milk. I had defrosted about 8 ounces of expressed milk for them. I opened the fridge and saw an unused bag of expressed milk and a partially consumed bottle. I think she maybe ate 4 ounces in the 10 hours I was gone.

I tried to digest how I felt about my day. In a way I felt like it was a waste of time. A waste of my parent’s time in looking after Winter, who wouldn’t eat. A waste of my husband’s time and his precious weekend – he just started a new job that consumes all his waking hours, even at home. And a waste of my time in a way that I did not expect.

F E E L I N G  P O W E R L E S S

What really surprised me about downshifting my role was how completely powerless I felt. I had stepped down from being a manager to be a staff pharmacist, but both jobs are almost identical in the day to day grunt work – 99% of your day is spent filling prescriptions and helping customers whether you are the boss or not. But when customers would complain about something – not being contacted about a hold up with their medicine, not having their phone number updated in the computer even though they saw the employee write it down, etc., I was powerless to do anything about it.

I could handle the complaints, I could handle the customers’ disappointment, but working only 2 days a week, what could I really do to prevent it?

Yes these mistakes had been made by someone other than me and on a different day, but the customer doesn’t realize that. Being in an environment without these expectations on this staff and without me as an authority figure to fix things was a feeling I had not anticipated.

.  .  .  .  .

A lot of my coworkers come to work to “get a break” from being at home, be it full time or part time. It’s their outlet. And I totally get that, because I find being at home can be utterly frustrating and downright exhausting, but at this point and time maybe my daughter is just too young for me to be in the workforce. I had never considered being a stay at home mom, and after giving birth I quickly realized that being a SAHM is literally the most difficult job on the planet – emotionally, inter-personally, sanity-wise, and many, many other ways.

I know that I am extremely lucky to not only have a job, but a flexible one and also to have the luxury of possibly being a SAHM. Not many parents have those options. But I’m still trying to come to terms with how I feel about working when it’s near impossible to pump and I’m powerless in my new role.

Does anyone else have a job where it’s near impossible to pump? How do you manage?