Published on March 9th, 2017 | by Megan Stolz0
Ode to My ACA-Covered Breast Pump (Thanks, Obama)
I’ve hung a “do not disturb” sign on the door with a cartoon cow. At least I haven’t lost my sense of humor. I will hear the rhythmic whir again in two hours, and again in two hours, and again in two hours because I gotta meet my quota, because my duct likes to plug, because my boobs need a constant food order, and will you relax already? Watch a video of your kid. Read some parenting articles, but not the ones about SIDS or choking. Massage your breasts, meditate, I am a milk goddess who has shit to do, damn it, and a kid who smells like daycare at the end of the day when we snuggle on the couch and an hour later, he’ll be in bed. And tomorrow, I’ll send him off with labeled bottles and have grown-up conversations with my coworkers at lunch, and then excuse myself back to my milk closet and wonder exactly when I’m going to have it all.