I went back to work two weekends ago and had a bumpy start on Sunday, and was back at it again the following Saturday. This time I threw some beef and veggies in the crock pot the night before so I would have a heartier dinner to look forward to than a simple bagel. I didn’t pump before I left, nor did I pump on my way in the car, because I’m always just barely out the door in time after I feed my daughter at 11:45am. I wanted to pump during my first break and my lunch hour while I had some coworker overlap, but his lunch got pushed to close to 3pm and the end of his shift was 4:30. So I went for my first break at 3:45 and pumped, and then realized I needed to get lunch in right afterward or I wouldn’t get much of a semblance of dinner by myself later. So there went a pump break.

At around 8:30pm I worked up the nerve to pump in the back of the pharmacy, a time that I hoped I might get away with not having a customer ask for help. I hooked everything up, situated myself near a computer so I could still do some work, and pressed the button on the machine. Nothing happened. I checked the AC adaptor in the outlet and in the machine and it still didn’t work. So I waddled over to the outlet on the next counter and removed a cord to plug the machine in. I pressed the button. Still nothing. Then I waddled over to the sink area, which had the least obstructed view of me from the customer’s perspective, but at this point I didn’t care. I pressed the button. Nothing. I realized that in my haste and confusion that I actually need to turn a dial to turn on the pump, because the button was a let down button! I’ve pumped over a 100 times before this, so I blame the fact that I was standing up and the dial was out of my eyesight. Finally, 10 minutes later I could start to pump, but then someone approached the counter for help. I threw an extra lab coat on my front side, backwards, and went to help him as he asked a long question that should have been quick and simple.

Another customer picked up a new prescription and I gingerly walked to the cash registers to talk to her about her medicine. I half expected the bottles to fall off the flanges and onto the floor, but thankfully they stayed in place. I really should have removed that part. I went back to pump. Five minutes later the first man had another question for me, and I asked the cashier to tell him I’d be five minutes.

The graveyard shift pharmacist came in to relieve me at 9pm and I shouted to him that I was pumping in the back, and I got a confused, “Ok” as a response. The cashier frantically tried to steer him away from my area, telling him I was pumping, to which he said, “Oh!” The next day she told me he asked her what pumping was after I’d left. I’m sure he would have been more mortified if he had been told while I was there.

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I came home reeling from the general stress of the day, and I made a beeline to the bathroom for a shower to try and relax and calm down. By the time I got out it was 10pm and my parents handed my daughter to me and went to bed. I nursed her, but it was a typical quick 6 minute nurse. I needed something to eat myself, and the sink was full of dirty bottle parts soaking in a bowl of water and my pumping parts needed to be washed, too. I opened the fridge to see a bottle with milk still in it and two bags of defrosted milk that were left untouched. I calculated how much fresh milk she had drank and it was probably about 3 ounces in the 10 hour day. My husband and I were both exhausted after long days at work, and we were starving. He washed the bottle parts for me while I ate, and all I could do was let the baby cry for a few minutes. I had tended to what needs I could by nursing her, but now I didn’t have the energy to bounce her and feed myself like I often do.

At around midnight I changed her diaper, and realized she’d been in the same diaper since 7pm. I was in shock to take it off and find there was no weight to it. It was nearly dry. I opened up the dirty diaper bag and found the previous diaper was also almost completely dry, and she had only two diapers before that, which were wet and heavy from my morning nursing session. Knowing that she had only ate 3 ounces of milk was hard enough, but finding a diaper that she’d been wearing for 5 hours that was as light as could be was heartbreaking. Nevermind not getting enough nutrients, I was now worried about dehydration. The first day back at work the previous Sunday I remember picking her up, and she actually felt lighter. I thought it was just my imagination, but then I thought, if she’s missing 9-12 ounces of milk that she should have drank during the day, then she could conceivably be lighter.

Those first two days I thought she would have made up for the lack of eating during the day with a long feed when I got home, or wake up several more times during the night to nurse, but she didn’t.

She went to bed at her typical 2am, and I ended up going to bed at 3am that night after commiserating about the day.

Sunday I went in for my third day. I pumped once during my break because my coworker needed to leave earlier, at 4pm, and as usual, it’s hard for the morning pharmacist to get a chance to go to lunch. This pushed my break and lunch only fifteen minutes apart so I didn’t pump again. I was hoping with the Superbowl that I would get in an uninterrupted session in before the game ended (go Hawks!). I pumped that night, now cognizant to turn the dial and not press the let down button to get it started, and sure enough as soon as 7pm hit, people started coming in. I had timed it just right and I finished just in time.

I came home and she had gotten 4 ounces during the day. My parents likened her finally taking to the bottle to heaven opening with angelic singing. They had managed to pull it off with the baby on her back holding her toes. They took a little video that has my mom calmly singing Twinkle Twinkle, but with lyrics telling my dad she was running out of milk and needing another bottle. It was cute.

I nursed her, which was (too) quick again, then I made myself an avocado smoothie. I gave her some avocado pieces to feed herself and she polished off a quarter of a large avocado! We’d only started the baby led weaning 10 days before and she had never eaten that much. The next morning I changed her diaper and she had a little formed poo. I couldn’t tell if it was a sign of dehydration or not, because up until this point her poop was typical “newborn” poop.

She has hated the bottle since she was 6 weeks old and became more aware of her surroundings. I calculate that even though I’m home with her 5 days a week, working weekends and her not feeding properly cuts of a whole quarter of her milk intake for the month. At her 6 month appointment she had already fallen low on her own growth curve, which was never in the highest percentiles to begin with. Babies are supposed to plateau in weight from 6-9 months, and this, combined with baby led weaning where she might not eat as much solids as other babies may not be a good combination for her. I’m a believer that her nutrition should be coming from breastmilk foremost, and that food before one is just for fun, but the dehydration is a concern I didn’t anticipate.

Babies are supposed to show a real interest in your food to mark the start of solids. With her, she was so very interested in my water bottle from 5 months on, but had no interest in food. She would reach out and try to grab it all the time. She was fascinated by it when I sat her in her high chair and I gave her a spoon to play with before the 6 month mark. I ordered a Kleen Kanteen Sippy for her to use this coming weekend, so I’m hoping she loves it as she seems to love my bottle. I realize that sippies get a bad rap for teeth and speech and what have you, but if it can get the milk into her for the time being, I’ll take it. It seemed like the only other options are straws, but I was hoping to that some sort of drinking vessel existed with a small opening to master tipping up a cup and drinking.

Cross your fingers for my parents this coming weekend. When did your babies learn to use a cup?