The soundtrack to my milk pumping, document writing life these days is something like this:
“woooooonk…click click click…woooooooonk….click click click”
After everything I’ve done in my life, it’s amazing how much I bank on how much I can get out of a single pumping session. It never fails to amaze me that these bottles of white milk are coming right out of me, like some sort of dairy-laiden drink dispenser.
Of course, the added calorie deficit doesn’t hurt either. I’m quite close to my pre-pregnancy weight – but slightly more…shapey?…than I was before – so every step I can take towards being a hot mom is a good thing. Especially since my return to work has put a huge damper on my running routine. Not that sitting in my office strapped into this damned hands free, corset-style pumping bra with the Medela Freestyle doing its thing has the same cardio benefits as hitting my treadmill – but for the time being it’s better than nothing.
All for now, I’m afraid.
Love love love,