Pumping in Ireland (reflections on 2006)

The only thing about this blog that I regret is that I didn't start documenting our lives when Dylan was born. I think that I have captured a lot about Olivia and Gray during their early months, but poor Dylan has been slightly overlooked. The best part about being the first born is that those memories are forever embedded in my new-mommy brain. The brain that worked surprisingly well before it had endured 6+ years of broken sleep and 24/7 multitasking requests of 3 loving little people.

In a recent text conversation with my SIL about breastfeeding, I was reminded of my first ever breastfeeding challenge. Back in 2006, John kicked butt on an incentive and won a work-related trip for us to Ireland for 7 days. Bad news was that the trip was scheduled for 10 weeks after Dylan was born. Dylan (our first born child) vs. Ireland (an overseas all-expenses paid trip).....ugh!!! I was pretty anxious when we found out that he had won. I was 9 months pregnant had no idea how hard or easy or kinda-tolerable it would be to leave my brand new baby. All that I knew was that John was a winner, and Ireland was one hell of a reward. So.....we went!

My mother had Auntie Marylin fly in as a back-up support system, and off we flew in May of 2006 leaving lil' Dylan behind. (Insert breastfeeding part of story) I decided when Dylan was born that *if* we went on the trip he would only get breastmilk while I was away. For some reason this made me feel like a better mommy, erased the abandonment factor, and made it acceptable to go. So, the pumping began and continued and continued and continued for 10 weeks straight. By the time we left for Ireland I had accumulated a total of 50+ bags of breastmilk in the freezer. We were SET! But, then there was the 'maintaining supply' component of the trip. I lugged that BIG Medela breast pump throughout airports, hotels, & busses across two continents pumping and dumping every 3 hours. For anyone who has ever breastfed before, you understand how disturbing it is to throw out 4 oz. of breastmilk every 3 hours. It's like flushing liquid gold down the toilet. I was so dedicated that I even woke up for mid-sleep pumping, because my boobs made me given that Dylan was barely sleeping through the night when I left. This whole effort successfully kept my boobs working and when we arrived back home Dylan was back on the boob within 10 minutes. I was so relieved, this was SOOOO important to me! I felt like it was okay to leave him as long as he remembered me and was back to boob milk ASAP.

I know I have pics somewhere of the actual trip to Ireland that this post is about, but for now I will leave you with the photos of Dylan that I printed, placed in a ziploc bag, and took with me on the trip.

(Dylan's crib awaiting his arrival)

(our first night out after Dylan was born)