Jessica H exclusively pumped for her twins for two years. In the end she did an epic photo shoot of taking a baseball bat to her breast pump. Here is her bad ass story.
"As I celebrate hanging up my pump after two years (and a calculated 3,000+ hours) of exclusively pumping for my twins, I knew I wanted to do something that would commemorate my triumph and struggle. This is to getting my body back, to celebrating my accomplishment, to celebrating surviving the first two years with twins, to reaffirming my strength as a woman and as a mother. This is for every tear, every clogged duct, every drop of spilt milk, the painful procedure to confirm the lump in my breast wasn’t cancer…this is a chapter in my life I am closing and moving on from, and I wanted to have some fun.
Our journey with breastfeeding started when my twins were born prematurely. They were so small and didn’t have the strength or stamina to latch. The nurses wheeled in a breast pump and told me to start pumping but to try not to get disappointed if I couldn’t do it.
This was my first taste of motherhood; being told I was already going to fail.
I sat there in that hospital room, hooked up that pump and I never looked back. I wanted to breastfeed, and breast milk (and its benefits) was the best thing I could provide for my vulnerable preemies, and I was determined to do it. First it was just making it a month, and then another month. Next thing I knew, two years had passed. While my growing toddlers were eating 3-square meals a day, I was still able to provide them with breast milk. They enjoyed it, asked for it, and I was still able to provide it…so why would I deny my babies that?
This was ultimately my choice to pump, and to keep pumping. While I don’t hate my choice, I’d be a fool to say that it was enjoyable. More than once I’ve pumped in tears, wondering if this was actually worth it. I’ve excused myself from events and family gatherings to go and pump. I’ve declined opportunities to go out with friends and chances to relax because I had to go and pump. I’ve dealt with people in public, friends, even doctors who didn’t understand, and I’ve seen the eye rolls and the exchanged glances when I said I’m still pumping. I’ve been told by some that my choice to pump was “disappointing”. My pump was my literal ball and chain, but it was something that I had accepted. This was a choice my husband supported, but for some reason affected others who weren’t involved in our family. If my personal choice to provide my daughters with the optimal nutrients for their growing minds and bodies is somehow offensive or upsetting, then I think it may be time to reconsider priorities.
Smashing this pump meant so many things. It meant I was free. It meant my babies were no longer babies. It meant an end from the most challenging thing I’ve ever done. It meant I decided to do something and I stuck to it until the end. It was an emotional release of every hurtful word, exchanged glance, every doctor, nurse and person who told me that I couldn’t do it.
This is my accomplishment. My achievement. My story. Everyone has one. No one is superior to anyone else, or less than. We are all equal in Motherhood and we are all amazing Mothers, doing our absolute best that we can for our children."
Comment below to tell Jessica how amazing she is and share this with your pumping friends. I know they will love it too!