You came to my house over a year ago, when I was getting ready to go back to work. You were disguised an a sleek black backpack. Not only did you accompany me on the daily commute on the Paris metro, you even came with me to Turkey and to the US. Yes, two international flights under your belt!
Everyday, you would do your work, 15-20 minutes at a time, sometimes up to three times a day. You worked superbly and efficiently, in my office, at home, and in public toilet stalls. You extracted out of me more than enough for what June needed.
Yes it's true that June did not learn to take the bottle, and much of the milk that you pumped out of my breasts was not consumed by her. However, your played an important role in keeping up my milk supply--and I am eternally grateful to you for that.
I no longer need you, as June is eating enough solids during the day, and now that she is over one year old, she is able to drink cow's milk during the day. The last pumping session was over two months ago, and the last of the frozen milk has now been drunk by June.
Thanks, breastpump. You helped maintain my milk supply , you saved my breasts from engorgement, and you allowed June to take small amounts of milk when I was unable to be with her. I can say with pride that except for the first week of her life in the hospital, June did not have to drink a drop of formula. I have been able to raise her on my breastmilk alone.
Rest your motor in peace.
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