By Maren Linn
I was 7 months postpartum on the hour-long bullet train to San Francisco when I realized had forgotten the breast pump.
When I learned that I was pregnant with my third, I had a little bit of a crisis. I already had two. A 4 year old and 16 month old. I was barely managing. The warm flame of hope that I could hold in my brain to get me through was that they were getting older and easier to manage all the time, and then I could get back to making a career happen - something that I hadn't quite gotten rolling before getting pregnant with my first.
But a restart at this point? Unimaginable.
When my partner asked me what I needed, I decided I wasn't going to wait any more. I needed that career. A purpose outside of parenting to keep me balanced and fulfilled. So I decided that now was the time to go back to school.
I was 7 months pregnant when I applied to business school and 6 months postpartum when I started classes.
It was the best thing I'd done for myself for a long time. I would take the hour long baby bullet into San Francisco 4 days a month, stay for the 8 hours of class plus additional time for student groups, speakers, events and socialization with my classmates. Then take the 1.5-2 hour slow train back home. I would be gone from 4:45am until anywhere from 8-10pm. When I had a 6 month old waking me up to eat at night. They were long and exhausting days, but so worth it.
I brought my breast pump with me and had worked out a schedule where I would pump before class, at lunch and after class. There was a lot of support. There was a pumping room that was also a break room that people would evacuate immediately if I needed it. Professors were very accommodating, to the point of offering to let me bring in the baby to feed and care for during the full 8 hours of class. I had felt awkward but determined when I first started - ready to stand up for my right to time and space to pump, but there was no need. It was, after all, San Francisco.
And then, only four months in, I went and left the pump at home.
It was hours away. My partner couldn't leave work and drive hours into and out of the city to bring it to me. I also couldn't survive the whole 11 hours without pumping without very bad consequences. And I had 8 hours of class...
I hand expressed what I could and made it to lunch with rock hard leaky boobs and paper towels stuffed in my bra. When Amazon Fresh delivered a $20 hand to the front desk of the school. Amazon is not my favorite future of commerce, but I still have to thank fuck for Amazon Fresh.
I got a locker and kept my hand pump on hand in case it happened again. (It did).
With all the support in the world, doing something like this, something important and meaningful for myself that required dedication and focus was still so so hard. Without it, it would have been impossible.
To all of you out there trying to succeed at something that feeds your soul: I see you, you've got this. It will all be worth it and your babies will see what your capable of and know that they too are capable.
Maren's story is part of our Rewrite Postpartum series. To share your own story, use the button below.
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