in which manual breast pumps are mentioned

Friday, February 6

A picture from the end of the summer. Feels like yesterday, but holy crap, look at how tiny she was!

9 days after Isla was born, Tyson and I headed to her second pediatrician appointment with both of the kids. We checked in, and were sitting in the waiting room when I began to experience some pain in my abdomen. I'd been having post-delivery uterine contractions all week (aren't those great), so the pain didn't catch me totally off guard and I tried to ride it out in silence. Soon though, it became too much to barrel through while in a public setting, so I left the waiting room and locked myself in the bathroom. Within a few minutes, the pain grew until it was excruciating, leaving me doubled over in tears and a cold sweat on the bathroom floor. After a few minutes, and with no responses from me on the phone, Tyson asked a nurse if she would head to the bathroom to check on me. And there I lay. After determining that I was immobile, the nurse decided to call an ambulance to take me to the hospital. Isla, voracious nurser that she was (is), began to be hungry, while I remained in a state that kept me from feeding her. Everett, who followed Tyson back to check on me, came to my side and started rubbing my back, leaning over into my face to ask, "wus wrong mama?" and after seeing me the way I was, began to cry. The nurses whisked him away with some stickers and dum-dums and reassured him that I was alright, which I was so grateful for, since my own reassurances were clearly not convincing enough. I heard the conversation between Tyson and the nurse in the hallway, trying to figure out how best to take care of our hungry baby. And then suddenly, there was an excruciatingly attractive paramedic lifting me onto a gurney and into the back of an ambulance while he asked me questions about what I was feeling. I somehow managed to say the word "vagina" out loud more than once. Since once was obviously not enough to get my point across. I GUESS?? Tragic.
A friend of ours met Tyson in the parking lot of the hospital and took the kids back to their house so Tyson could run in and be with me. The nurses had loaded our bag up with formula packs and bottles to feed Isla and a friend even offered to nurse her in case she wouldn't want to take a bottle at nine days old. Even Tyson's parent's drove up that same day and cared for us over the next few days. It was the greatest anxiety in the world for me, getting whisked away from her and her hungry cries at the doctors office, so it meant so much to have so many people step in and care for her when I couldn't.
We ended up staying at the hospital for the rest of the day and into the night, so for several hours, it was just me and Tyson under the stark lights of the hospital room - a real strange thing to experience right after having a baby. My breasts were starting to become painfully engorged, so Tyson went out and asked if we could have a breast pump sent over from the maternity ward. The nurse graciously dropped it off on the end of my hospital bed, and asked if we'd ever used a manual pump before. We hadn't. She hadn't either. So she left us to it. Tyson put it together and scooted his chair up closer to my bed so that I wouldn't have to do the pumping myself. And there we were. Me in a hospital bed with my boob shoved into a pump while Tyson sat there, his arms working, literally milking me, and slightly mesmerized by the process. My milk supply really struggled after Everett was born, so while Tyson pumped and watched this bottle fill, it was sort of like this mildly victorious moment, laced with wonderment and congratulations. Sitting there, I couldn't help but think back to the first time we met. I don't know why. But I suppose when you're sharing a deeply personal moment with someone, and/or being milked by that someone,  you think back to that first exchange of phone numbers and laugh that those two human beings, flirting for the first time, couldn't possibly have imagined that this manual breast pump moment would be in their future together. It's fun. All of this with him.
In other news, Tyson will be here tonight! For exactly 36 hours. And then he'll take a flight back to school until March. We originally didn't think he'd be able to squeeze this quick trip in this month, so it was an enormously happy surprise. And it will be an enormously happy 36 hours. I can't wait.


Unknown said...

This is such a beautiful post. I think it's those intimate moments that shape a relationship, that strengthen it. Hope you have a wonderful 36 hours with your husband.

Unknown said...

I've been reading your blog for several years now. In fact, I think it was the first blog that I ever started following. I have never commented before, but I just wanted to let you know that your blog is one of the things that inspired me to start my own. I admire your candid writing style, vulnerability and honesty that comes with all your posts. You've got something really good here - keep on doing what your doing. Best wishes to you and your family.

Rachel said...

"Being milked by someone" laughing out loud. I hope my milk supply is better with my next kid! -♥- Rachel (For the Birds)

Gentri said...

Well, first, I am so glad you're ok! Second, this story is pretty funny (while I felt sort of felt guilty for chuckling), it is also so endearing. I love hearing about that personal moment and thinking how it must have felt to look back on your first moments, ever, together. :) Thank you for sharing! Your posts are always my favorite.

Anonymous said...

I'd like to say it was so exciting to read this post <3

Unknown said...

Awe! so glad you want as a family, and not just you and the kids. hope you're healing well!

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