Goodbye Pumping

(inspired by Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown)

In one of three nursing rooms, there was a table and a chair.
And a mirror that reflected both my breasts bare.
And an outlet for my plug and a milk-stained rug.
And a clock and a lock. Though people still always knocked.
And outside there were a microwave and a fridge.
And some soap and a sink.
And filtered water for me to drink.

Goodbye pumping.
Goodbye nursing room.
Goodbye pumping in the nursing room.
Goodbye to the hospital-grade pump in my bedroom.
Goodbye tubing. Goodbye lanolin lubing.
Goodbye fenugreek. Goodbye breasts that leak.
Goodbye milk storage bags. And goodbye microwave steam bags.
Goodbye pump-part sterilization. And goodbye alcohol moderation.
Goodbye milk letdowns. And goodbye milk-deficiency breakdowns.
Goodbye thrush. Goodbye engorged breasts.
And goodbye to the old lactation consultant whispering “breast is best.”

Goodbye plugged ducts. Goodbye nursing wear.
Goodbye to pumping everywhere.