I was absolutely delighted to receive a goooorgeous picture of an adorable new little eco-babe this morning from one of our customers. Thanks very much to Louise for sending it, and congratulations! Louise mentioned expressing milk and it reminded me of this story...
Eco-Boy was still just an eco-peanut when I decided that it would be a great idea to book tickets to the London Olympia Showjumping for Christmas 2004. It was April, and he was due on the October, so
would be around 3 months at the time. I knew that I was committed to breastfeeding if possible but didn't consider the consequences of leaving a young, fully breastfed baby for the weekend...
Eco-Boy's birth came and went in October 2004. I was lucky to easily establish breastfeeding and things were going well. December loomed, however, and at the beginning of the month I realised that if I was going away sans baby I was going to need to lay down some serious milk supplies. So for the next two weeks I expressed about 3 times a day, freezing little pots of the precious stuff, eventually building up sufficient stocks for Eco-Boy to be left with his Grandmother for 3 days.
So on Friday night we headed down to Oxford, from Yorkshire, where we were staying with friends who were going to the event with us. Saturday morning saw me up early, extremely uncomfortable and full, expressing milk to try to get some relief. It very quickly became apparent that my expressing over the past fortnight had dramatically increased my milk supply - whereas even my excellent expressing machine was nowhere near as efficient as Eco-Boy was at extracting it! The day passed with me using the machine every hour or so, and in the evening we headed to London and sat down to watch the showjumping.
At the interval I said to my friend that I absolutely had to go to the loos to try again as I felt like I was going to explode. She came with me and it was only when we were both locked in a cubicle together with a whiiir - whiiir - whiiir noise going on that we realised how odd it may look...
We took the London-Oxford night bus home together with a bunch of inebriated, scarily dressed (but well spoken - on their way to Oxford) Metallica fans who had just been tipped out of Earls Court, and in desperation I went into the bus loo and started again. After three people had tried the door I took a deep breath, popped my head around the door and explained to the rather stunned long-haired rock fan nearest me that I didn't have to be in the toilet, but I was there expressing milk so please ask people who need to use the facility to knock and wait, and I would come out. Looking back on that, I wonder at myself, but there you are.
By Sunday morning things were not looking better. I was feeling awful and instead of our normal lunch-and-go we decided to head straight up to Yorkshire. I was at the point of eyeing up babies in prams and visualising popping them onto my boob just to relieve the pain!
Finally we got to Grandmother's house and finally I was able to whisk away my little boy and give him a good feed, whether he was hungry or not! I remember the last few miles to the house, chanting to myself under my breath "I will not explode... I can handle the pain... I will not explode..."
So! Here are my top 5 tips for expressing breastmilk:
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