🍼 I Broke Up With My Breast Pump (And Honestly, It Had It Coming)

The day I ended a toxic relationship—with my breast pump.

We’ve been seeing each other multiple times a day, ugh. It was clingy. Demanding. Loud. And frankly, it never gave back the emotional support I needed. I’d be mid-pump, one dog whining for their mid day snack, the other snoring so loud I can’t even hear my pump or myself think, my newborn screaming like he’s auditioning for a horror film, and me—just trying to get at least an ounce or two of breastmilk while my nips are hurting from the constant sucking.

I tried to make it work. I really did. I even bought a variety of pumps and attachments. But the pump was ruining my vibe. I was cranky, snappy, bitchy and starting to be the person I said I would not turn out to be, an extreme bitch(lol). I could feel the tension in the house rising like sour milk.

So I called it quits.

I’m choosing not to be the extreme bitch. I’m choosing sanity (or whatever sanity I currently have). I’m choosing not to schedule my life around a machine that sounds like it’s beatboxing in Morse code.

To all the moms out there still in the pumping trenches: I raise a glass of margarita to you. You’re the real MVPs. But if you ever feel like throwing that pump out the window or punting it into the next galaxy—I get it. I really, really do.