At around 12 pm, I had to go the public bathroom to pump. I'm there minding my own business when I hear a woman ask very quietly what the noise was. She's obviously talking to someone else and proceeds to say that it sounds like a recorder. A recorder? If that is what a recorder sounds like, then that's the noisiest recorder I've ever heard. Just because she came up with that answer, I remained quiet and never said it was my pump.
Apparently, people are very creative when it comes to deciphering noises. At least this one didn't try opening my door. I hate the bathroom!
On a sweet note, there's this lady who always asks me how me and the baby are doing. She saw me in the bathroom at some point today with my pump and told me that I was an excellent mother. She said that she could only last a week pumping after she returned to work. It was too difficult for her. The fact that I'm still doing impressed her. She said that Will is lucky to have me. How sweet is that?
Pumping has become so part of my routine that I don't think of it as a sacrifice. It's just part of me now. I do sometimes wish I didn't have to pump, but it's not such a big deal to me. I'm happy that I'm able to do this for my little guy.
Well, got to go! I must go pick him up from Grandma and Grandpa's.