Today I didn't pump.
I. Just. Didn't. Pump.
I'd planned to, I just let the hours slip by, thinking about the breast pump in my desk drawer, peeking at it, and closing it away. Part-weaning on a whim, you could call it.
Why? Well, I really don't care for the grimy, distant, sink-less mothers' rooms at my new place of employment, but I know women have pumped in much more undesirable locations (supply closets, airplane bathrooms, conference rooms).
But with a lousy place to pump and dwindling commitment (Baby A is almost 7 months old), I just said to hell with it. I want to stop shlepping. Stop cleaning parts. Stop planning for the break in the middle of the day. I want to start working out over lunch, and I'll feel less guilty about that if I'm not also breaking to pump.
So, no, I don't feel too guilty. After all, I nursed exclusively for six months. And now that I've found a brand of formula that Baby A will drink, I'm going to put away the pump for good and have the nursing relationship I enjoy (baby vs machine) in the morning, evening and at night.
Cross-posted to the Chicago Moms Blog
