Also, I had this encounter in the NICU:
In our NICU at MSCHONY (don't you feel like that's faaaar too many
letters for an acronym?) you could pump out your boobs bedside or in a
little room. One of those little rooms had only one pump and one had
two. I never did get what the socially correct way was of finding out
if someone would be okay pumping together so if the door was closed I
just went away. Anyway, I was pumping and a lady came in. I seemed to
surprise her and she asked if I minded. I told her no and to go right
ahead. (I think we already covered my loss of dignity and modesty
pretty early on in this). She started pumping and we made small talk.
Sitting together topless is one of the exceptions to the "no chatting
with strangers" rule. How old is your kid? Boy or girl? Blah blah
blah.
"I have triplets. All girls"
"Triplets? Really? Wow! Triplets?"
"Yep. Three."
"And you're pumping?" I thought that seeing my boobs out being sucked
in and out of a loud machine would probably pre-empt this question.
Nope. Of course not.
"Yep. I am."
"Why?"
Alright, I'm going to stop you here and remind you that this woman is
also pumping. Like literally right this minute while having this
conversation.
"Uh, I mean, ya know, to give the babies some breast milk."
"But you have triplets."
"Yep. Yep. I do."
"So why are you pumping?" Looking back on it, I should have said that
it was probably for the same reasons she was or some other comment to
make her understand that all babies need food. Even triplets. Alas, as
is my constant burden, I didn't think of that right then. My social
handicap took over.
"Oh, oh, looks like I'm done. Nicemeetingyoubye." I awkwardly throw
everything in my bin without washing it and exit as fast as possible.
From then on I was sure to only give her the nod.
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