My worst day was when some friends and I decided to go to Seattle for the day. I was travelling an hour and a half from my 4 month old son so I pumped enough milk to leave for my mother to feed him, packed my hand pump in my purse, and went off to enjoy my first foray without a child in tow.

While in Pike Place Market my breasts became so uncomfortably engorged I thought I would cry. I tried to go to several public restrooms to pump but they were all full of women doing their “thing” (furthermore, it was a busy day at the market and there were LINES for the bathrooms!) or they were all just so nasty dirty that I couldn’t seem to relax enough to achieve let-down. I kept trying for two hours to no avail.

Finally, a friend of mine who HAD brought her 10 month old daughter with her on the trip, came up with a good idea. She too breastfed so she offered me her child. I was stunned. It DID have that “cross-wired” feeling to it, but not due to sexuality. It was simply not MY child. At first her daughter fussed at me. Mine was not the breast she was looking for. But eventually she latched on and I had two immediate reactions:
1. OMG what a RELIEF!!!!
2. OMG she has TEETH!!!

LOL!

It all ended well and I learned my lesson. I never let my son go from my side for more than 30-40 minutes at a time until our breastfeeding days were over.
lumina´s last [type] ..Black and White Thinking and the Various Uses for a Corncob

Just to touch on @FeministBreeder’s comment (but not to purposely make you nauseous). I’ve done some business traveling while nursing, but pumping away on business only for relief, since there was lots at home (and baby was 18+ mos old). I hate the idea of dumping something so precious and always tend to get sick when I travel on planes. I pretty much always drink most of what I express with a pump. It’s kind of sweet. It doesn’t taste like cow milk at all (from what I remember) and of course it was warm.

I really enjoyed your thoughts and all the comments.
.-= Karen´s last blog ..Walking the Tightrope =-.

I acknowledge that it is very strange that I won’t taste my own breastmilk – and I have never, and would never, shame another mother for doing so (I’m actually pretty impressed – same way I feel about people who dive with sharks, no way I’d do it, but more power to you!)

I also don’t understand why being a feminist means I’m required to act exactly the way any other woman would act. My own personal feelings (call them hangups if you like) is that my breastmilk is not for my (or my husband’s) consumption.

In fact, when DH asked me what I’d do if I ever found myself in this situation, and refused his help with it, I told him I’d head to the nearest hospital. They all have breastpumps. That’s how far I’d go to avoid my husband’s mouth touching my baby’s breastmilk. Would I expect other mothers to do the same thing? Absolutely not. Do what works for you.
.-= TheFeministBreeder´s last blog ..Wordless Wednesday =-.

Your comment reminds me of a Wendy Wasserstein play from the ’70s in which young feminists at a seven sisters school are discussing what they considered a rite of passage for young feminists: tasting their menstrual blood. It is ridiculous to say the willingness to do act X entirely defines whether you can be a feminist is … well …not feminist. I never tasted by own breast milk. The color was off-putting to me and I dislike any animal milk. It was a sensory issue, not a feminist one.
.-= Jake´s last blog ..Suck ‘N Spit on Weeds: Yes, They Really Relieved Breast Engorgement Like THAT =-.