Plenty of women have recommended I get some sort of hands-free pumping bra since I started pumping breastmilk for my triplets 18 weeks (!) ago while they were in the NICU.
I poo-pooed the advice at first, though, because I didn’t have much to do while I was pumping. Pumping was quiet time I savored – time to focus on my babies (either by staring into their isolettes or simply imagining them while I sat at home), time to pray, time to just be quiet and feel like I was doing something to help them, like I was being their mother.
Then they came home.
That time became quiet time to relax – the only time to myself – and sit with Netflix while I cruised through seasons of TV shows.
And then they reached their due date. Just as my triplet-mommy friend Pam said, all hell broke loose. Suddenly, pumping became a race. I need to pump, but they need me. The people we have here to help need me. Time has shrunk, and I find myself racing to pump, racing to eat, racing to pee – all within the span of about 60-90 minutes, sometimes less. I’ve had to choose between pumping and eating. And peeing? Forget about it. Let’s just say I’m lucky to have had my bladder of steel returned to its pre-pregnancy condition.
Then one day, Wendy Armbruster Bell sent me a message on Twitter, offering to send me a hands-free bra to try in exchange for an honest review. I checked out the PumpEase site and some other reviews before agreeing, but the bra seemed to make everyone happy. Convinced it wouldn’t waste my time or hers, I agreed.
Lord have mercy, I think it’s the smartest blog decision I’ve ever made.
I normally don’t have much trouble finding time to pump. Our families are around enough that I can step aside for 30 minutes to take care of that business. It’s finding time to do everything else that’s the problem. Like eating. Like I said, I’ve had days during which I chose eating over pumping. To produce milk like a cow, one must eat like a cow.
No more choosing, ladies and gents. I take a few minutes to prep whatever snack or meal I’m having and carry that into the room with my pump, strap on my PumpEase bra, get the pump parts in place, start Netflix and sit back, eat and watch TV (currently season 5 of 24). Or blog. Or answer e-mails. I could probably read a book, but I’m not sure if my attention span has returned to a normal state.
I use a hospital-grade pump, so I’m always plugged in and thus not able to move far, but I have unhooked the pump hoses and wandered into the nursery to soothe babies with the flanges and bottles still in place. No big deal. I’m sure it’d be easy to move about the house if my pump used batteries. I can only imagine the possibilities of being hands free AND wireless. Freedom!
Hands free AND appropriate for all ages. WIN.
The material for the regular PumpEase bra reminds me of a nice bathing suit. It’s smooth and stretchy, and it maintains its tightness. It’s stupid comfortable, and I’ve never felt my bottles of precious milk were at risk of falling away.
I do produce a lot of milk, though – I use 8 oz. bottles and need to switch from full to empty bottles during a pumping session at least once a day. Those bottles get HEAVY. For my safety (gravity does enough without letting heavy bottles pull anything else down) and for my milk’s safety, I remain seated with the bottles resting on my legs once I reach the 4 oz. mark in one bottle.
Not a problem in my eyes, though. It allows me guilt-free resting time.
Good news, dear readers. I have a PumpEase bra to give away to one lucky duck. All you have to do is leave a comment here telling me what you’d do with your hands-free time while pumping. Eat? Crochet? Play poker? Work on a baby book? Or, if you’re like me yesterday – NAP!
The winner will be chosen at random, and you have until 8 p.m. EDT on Tuesday, April 5 to enter.
Disclaimer: While PumpEase sponsored this review, the opinions I’ve expressed here are solely my own and represent my honest viewpoint.
Babywearing is DIFFICULT. If I wasn’t facing a lopsided baby:arms ratio, I would have given up weeks ago.
Fortunately for me, my arms are full of babies. Unfortunately, quitting my attempts at babywearing is a luxury I just don’t have.
First, I fought with the Moby. I couldn’t get the darn thing on tight enough. Each time I tightened the parts that wrap up and over my shoulders, the part around my waist would ride up.
I still have to wiggle and squirm and give it a few tries, but I can at least comfortably get babies into the Moby without me busting a sweat and them freaking out (more than they already are).
In fact, the Moby has become a sanity saver when one of my triplets is too fussy to sleep. Once I get them in and give them a few jiggles, BAM. Sleeping baby. Just like Eleanor is in that picture.
One of my good friends recently sent me a Hotsling to try. She never liked it, and, as of right now, I can see why. I’ve stared at the thing, slipped it on, spun it around, manhandled it, YouTubed it – you name it – and I still haven’t figured out what I’m doing wrong, why I can’t see how it works.
Finally, this morning, I got brave enough to try. I feel bad that I have to put Hungry Baby down while I prepare a bottle. Having a sling to quickly secure a baby with me while having both hands free (because let’s be honest – young babies do that flailing thing and can’t be trusted to be held with one hand or even one hand and a chin/cheek/forehead) to act as bartender.
My attempt failed.
Toby was scrunched up, his chin was resting on his chest – it was just miz.
So I’ll head back to the interwebz to see what I’m doing wrong, why I can’t figure out how to wear a baby in this product that so many love and swear by.
I don’t know. Maybe babywearing is a natural talent. Maybe you have to have a knack for it kind of like how you need to be athletic to succeed in sports. I can see why so many try and give up. I cannot see why so many try and end up with 40 different babywearing accessories.
I’m determined to keep trying to work with what I have. I just don’t have the time or money to constantly buy/try different products. I have a Moby, now I have a Hotsling, and I have an Ergo for when they’re bigger (but not the infant insert. Sigh.)
It’s a good thing I’m stubborn enough to keep trying. It’s a good thing I’m soft enough to want to cuddle my trio as much as I can, even when I need to be doing other tasks.
These things really need support groups and in-home demonstrations. Someone get on making that happen, OK?
You’ve read my requests to help us raise money for our March for Babies team. You’ve seen the awesome bracelet my friend Crystal is selling in our honor. But did you know Tracy is throwing a Scentsy party in our honor?
All the commission Tracy makes from the PB&J Time Scentsy party is being donated to our MfB team. Awesome, right? It gets better. If you place an order, you’ll be entered to win the host rewards. You get fantastic Scentsy products, you help babies AND your house will smell amazing.
WIN.
In case you don’t know, Scentsy makes wickless candles. Really, it’s scented wax you drop into these cool-looking warmers. There are a ton of scents, and you can mix and match to make your own.
Isn’t Tracy awesome for doing this? Help her, help us – help the babies! If you need or want something to make your house smell all sorts of good, check out the party and place an order.
You’ll think of us with each sniff, I’m sure.
(FYI, our team has raised the most money of all family teams in North Carolina this year. We’ve pushed our goal up a few times already and are less than $200 from reaching our current goal of $7,000. Know what would be rad? If we could hit $10,000. RAD.)
I’ve been trying to write this entry for weeks now. I’ve already talked about mental and emotional survival, but physical survival is also important. I’m short on time and brain power, so instead of trying to weave an eloquent cheer flag, I’ve decided to throw up bullet points in hopes that some other NICU parents appreciate the quick words as they sit in their own uncomfy isolette-side chair.
- Get to know your nurses. Seeing them as real people will help you trust them, plus talking to them about more than the babies will help you decompress and pass time.
- Spend as much time as you can and want in the NICU. Some people do well with less time in the unit. Others, like me, do best with as much time as possible. As long as you’re healthy – in body and mind – listen to your instincts.
- Learn about your babies as much as possible. Ask questions about their care. Watch to see how they act. Watch how they sleep. It is possible to bond through the isolette, but it takes a lot of patience and vigilance.
- Get your kangaroo on. Kangaroo care, that is. It’s good for you, and it’s good for baby. Breathe in that baby smell and revel in the tiny life of which you’re in charge.
- Accept free food. I don’t care if you hate meatloaf. If someone gives you free meatloaf, eat it and be thankful you can eat without thinking or doing anything more than chewing.
- Dress comfortably when in the unit. Don’t worry about impressing anyone with your stylish threads or even offending anyone with your ratty sweatpants. You can focus better if you’re comfortable. You can maneuver through wires if you’re comfortable. You can sit for more hours than you expected when the shit hits the fan and doctors and nurses are dancing around your baby, trying to figure out the unknown problem.
- Carry with you some thick hand cream. Frequent washing and sanitizing is brutal. Your hands will thank me.
- If the NICU has your cell phone number as your contact number, program a different ring for their number. Otherwise, you’ll have a heart attack each time Curious Family Member calls. Reserve those heart attacks for actual NICU calls.
- When the NICU does call, sit down and center yourself before answering. You don’t want to hear bad news while holding a sharp kitchen knife. The extra 30 seconds before answering is worth it.
- Bring your electronics into the unit. I can’t tell you how many times my iPod touch saved my sanity. From Angry Birds to streaming Netflix, the mindless activities helped pass the hours I spent in the unit. I always had one eye on three monitors, but having that other eye elsewhere saved me from completely losing my mind.
Readers, if you’ve survived the NICU, please feel free to add any of your own tips in the comments. I’m seven weeks out from our stay, and the sleep deprivation and sweet, healthy babies have clouded some of my memory. I’m sure I’m forgetting some vital advice.
If you’re in the NICU now, know you aren’t alone. I wish I could tell you we all survive, that we all find that elusive light at the end of the tunnel, but we all know that isn’t true. Take care of yourself and focus on the possibility of survival.
Sometimes that’s all you need.
They say it takes a village to raise a child. When you have triplets on RSV lockdown, that village lives in your computer. So, dear readers, want to help me out?
Eleanor. Oh, Eleanor. Unless she’s in a deep sleep with nothing – no sneezes, no spitting up, no startle reflex movements – she does to wake her up, she screams bloody murder in her crib.
We thought she needed swaddled, that her flailing arms woke her up too easily. She broke out of the tightest swaddles we could produce.
We thought she was chilly. We warmed a blanket for her – for her spot and to put over her body.
We thought she needed to be put down in her crib only when she was in a deep sleep, that moving her just after she fell asleep was too startling.
Then we decided to leave Callista, our reflux baby, on the Boppy we had propped her on after she ate (she needs to stay upright after eating, and another baby needed attention – enter Boppy The Hero). She was calm, quiet and sleeping peacefully.
After several naps wrapped up in the Moby (did she just want to be snuggled close to me?), my mom suggested we try Eleanor on her own Boppy. Callista’s happy, maybe Eleanor will be, too.
And she is.
What I wonder is why? The key now seems to be sleeping on her tummy in some fashion. I spent last night in my recliner with her sleeping on my chest, the same position she’s slept in the last few mornings when she wakes just an hour after we last fed her – and she sleeps soundly for another 2-3 hours.
The Boppy, unwrapped on a volunteer’s warm chest, wrapped in the Moby – all are tummy-sleeping positions in some fashion.
So why does she love that so much? Is it a preference thing? Or could she have reflux, too?
Callista’s reflux is obviously painful. Eleanor refluxes – hiccups, spit up, etc., but we assumed it’s developmental, something most preemies have, especially babies who had a feeding tube running to their stomachs for an extended period.
Could I do something more for her aside from just giving her as many tummy-sleeping opportunities as possible?
