If a baby is the fashion accessory of 2001, for working mums, the electronic breast pump is the new Prada handbag (social suicide if you don't have one).
But where to pump? Private offices are a Stainless Bracelets thing of the past and few businesses offer even a cubicle where a woman can pump in peace. This dilemma has forced many women into the only semi-private sphere they can access: the car. It is not uncommon for nursing working mothers to make a lunchtime dash for a car, plug into the cigarette lighter and pump away in the parking lot. Not me. I pump on the road.
I could wait until I get home, of course, but that would mean becoming so engorged that my breasts might explode all over the windshield. And yes, I could pull over; but then I'd arrive home 20 to 40 minutes later. I prefer to spend the time with my baby - or, truth be told, asleep.
Few tasks are as compatible as commuting and pumping. First, they're equally boring. Each requires one hand and a fraction of one's brain power. But most important, they're both jobs that are impossible to delegate. Your partner can pick up the dry cleaning, but cannot pump your milk or travel to and from work for you.
But the real reason I pump on the road is because it is deliciously subversive. I feel like I'm getting away with something. Not every mother will want to try on-the-road pumping, but for the intrepid, I offer the following tips:
l Choose your vehicle wisely. We can dismiss the maximum visibility/minimum fuel-consumption cars exemplified by the Volkswagen Beetle. You are supposed to drive with both hands on the wheel; and all that glass is a liability. Dare I suggest a petrol- guzzling four-wheel-drive? Forget the weight differential that will flatten any vehicle, person or elephant that gets in your way. Ignore the integrated booster seats. We power-pumpers buy these things because they're so far off the ground that nobody can see if your bra is open.
relica rolexl Don't scrimp on power. You'll want six cylinders under the bonnet and 12 volts on the passenger seat - minimum. Hand-pumping can effectively relieve engorgement, but it won't be a pretty sight nor will it be comfortable.
What is missing from the nursing mother's arsenal is a serious commuter pump. Battery-driven pumps are a good start, but you have to be an octopus to use one while driving. You've got the funnels on your breasts, the suction tubes on the funnels, the bottles collecting the milk and a suction-power knob so tiny that it can be difficult to control with tweezers on a stable night-table, never mind with a free hand in the fast lane.
What we really need is a car with an integrated breast-pump. Motorway pumpers don't want flimsy or demure, we need dairy-farm efficiency - something bulky and rubberised.
l Buckle up. No, I don't mean fasten your own safety belt, although naturally the Sunday Herald only endorses legal driving. I'm referring instead to the seat belt on the passenger side, which you'll want to strap around your pump. Laugh if you will, but the last thing you need is the whiplash of a 10-pound machine stretching your nipple all the way to the floor in the event of a sudden stop. If an infant can suck a nipple halfway down his windpipe, then breast tissue will hold all the way to the floor mat.
l Stay left as you pump and drive. Do this to avoid buses and trucks with passengers who can peer down and see what you're doing. Nothing can dry up a rush-hour pumper quicker than an audience of schoolkids.
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