I am back from the RESOLVE Conference! I got to listen to some truly fascinating talks about various IVF topics, and I got to meet the fabulous Mel! (Photo will be forthcoming, when she sends me a copy. She’s presumably unpacking.) I’ll write more about the topics later when I go through my notes.

I didn’t sleep much at all last night because I was nervous about waking up on time, driving that distance and finding the conference center, and leaving Kate for 12 hours. Mostly I was nervous about her suddenly deciding she is ravenous and going through all the milk I left in the freezer. We don’t usually use more than a bottle or two a week, so I don’t keep very much in the freezer – all week I’ve been pumping extra to make sure I had extra. So wouldn’t you know it, I arrived at the hotel with a stomach-ache and a headache, probably both from anxiety! But I made it on time and didn’t get lost. It was a miracle.

I brought my big diaper-tote-bag in order to carry the electric pump around with me and not have it be totally obvious like Hey, I’m totally breastfeeding my cute little baby! At lunch I asked someone if there was somewhere I could go. The coat closet wasn’t being used – a pretty big room, totally empty, and it even had a chair, an electric plug, and a lock on the door. I was so thrilled it was so easy! So I got set up and sat there thinking about Kate and wondering how she’s doing. And then… the door opened. Apparently I locked it, but it didn’t latch when I closed it. A lady stared at me in shock, looked around the room and stuttered “Oh! I’m sorry!!” and she shut the door. Here I am sitting there with my shirt pulled up, the pump cones on my boobs like an extremely unfortunate Madonna costume, and the machine is going Thhhp thhhp thhhp. I just kind of froze thinking, oh this is great.

I’m still sitting there thinking about how embarassing that was when I hear the door handle again. The door opens for a second time, a different woman, this time holding keys. “I’m sorry…” was all I could say. She poked her head in, looked around while saying something like, “I just have to get…” and then stopped when she apparently realized it wasn’t in there – whatever it was. Then she says to me politely – and fairly composed, considering the state of me – “I could get you a room?” I thanked her and said I was almost done anyways. And smiled as if there was nothing weird going on.

Now I have nursed in public many times at this point. Sometimes with a screaming child, sometimes with a mischievous child who nursed until let down then leans back to see the world. I have probably flashed people my nipple, and I know a couple of times a fine spray of milk went everywhere. But that is nothing compared to how awkward it feels to be seen pumping. It’s just so dairy-cow like.

So that was my laugh of the day. At this point I just shrug and say, “Meh!” But I think that woman may be traumatized for life.