Pumping

The fall semester is coming to an end and with that all my milk pumping and what goes with that - humiliation. This semester I've taught at 3 different schools but pumped at 2.

When the classes started, I thought it would be appropriate to be honest with the janitors and explain once for all why I needed an extra room with no windows but a power outlet open every night for 15 minutes. These weren't the conversations I was looking forward to, but went well, and I was happy when I was done with them.

Pumping itself was never a problem. Time sometimes was limited, but I followed my friend's advice of not feeling guilty for making students wait a few minutes. I was producing the best food there was for my baby goose after all.

One thing I didn't realize was that the janitors take a night off every now and then and have subs. Subs, just like the regular janitors, are always male and most of the time understand English. However I did notice a pattern: their English worsens when I get to the pumping part of the room opening request. If they understand what kind of pumping I'm talking about they usually get embarrassed which makes me feel very uncomfortable. If they don't, then I get embarrassed. As an ESL teacher I try my best to help them understand what it is I do behind those close doors, and to answer their question: "You do what?" - I provide many details and unconsciously use body language. So, I catch myself touching my boobs each time I use the word 'pump', which only makes the whole situation worse.

Last night, there was a sub janitor at one of my schools again. I explained again that I'm a new mom and my baby is at home, but I have to be able to feed her, so I have to pump. After watching me touch my boobs (again), poor guy turned around and opened the first door there was. So I was placed at the library (with windows). And, because it's a winter time, it gets dark outside early; at 8 pm, it's pitch black. even though the windows have blinds, because of the light inside, one can still see what's going on the inside with just little effort.

Trying not to think about the light and windows, I found an outlet, got my bottles ready and right before attaching the pump, I heard a knock on the door. Hoping that whoever was there would just leave, I took a deep breath and tried not to be bothered.

The little boy's voice wasn't letting it go.
Boy: Open up! I can see you're inside!
Kate: The library is closed!
Boy: Open up!
Kate: No!
Boy: Open up. My mom works here; I have to drop something off.

So, I covered my equipment, pulled my shirt down, opened the door to be pushed away by two little guys who obviously had a mission to accomplish. Whatever they were doing took about 5 minutes, and they were on their way out.

So, everything worked out great. I went back to my food producing activity, did my business and was back in the classroom in 10 minutes. It seems like not a big deal, but I'll be very happy when I don't have to deal with situations like this any more. I bet the janitors will be happy, too.