Amy Joyce: The Pump of Perfection or a Disaster?
I'm 10.5 months into breast-feeding and pumping. That means I'm ALMOST there: pump-free days at the office again. Although I've been thrilled to be able to give my son all breast milk all the time, I can't wait to be free from the sometimes humiliating drudgery of pumping. (Male colleague as I come out of the closet we call a pumping room, carrying my milk case: "Oh, what did you bring for lunch today?" Me: "Oh, you know..." Male colleague, not giving up: "Did you cook it yourself?" Me, giving up: "Actually, it's a bag of breast milk." Poor male colleague.)
So when I was asked to test drive the Freestyle, I thought sure, but what do I care? I'm down to pumping just once a day. I knew if it was perfect, I'd curse the manufacturers for not coming up with it sooner. A disaster? I'd curse them for wasting my time.
My conclusion: It was a little bit of both.
The first day I tried it, I felt like I was starting to go into convulsions just reading the instructions--insert slot A into tab B with straps C, D, E and U. But only if A and B are color coded to match C. (Okay, not quite, but you get the idea.)
Once I was finally hooked up and ready for take off -- and yes, that's totally what it feels like -- I laughed out loud at myself. And trust me, this was one time I was glad no one was there to laugh with me. I felt ridiculous. (Whoever said motherhood is sexy must have been feeling very, very bad for herself and needed a pick-me-up that day.)
But away I went, reading an article I had set aside for just this hands-free occasion. The result? UGH. A wet nursing bra. The horns (trumpets, suction cups -- whatever awful name you use for them) leaked out the bottom because I had tightened one of the straps too much, making the bottom part loose.
I warned the other pump-testers like I was warning them away from a dangerous city corner.
The next day, I tried it again. But I was so paranoid, I held onto the apparatus the whole time--something I do with my Pump in Style anyway. And then, I admit it. I gave up. At least for a few days.
I went back to it on the weekend because I realized Friday afternoon that if I took this little thing home with me, I wouldn't have to lug my suitcase-like Pump in Style on the bus, to the nanny share, and back through Adams Morgan on my walk home.
This is the best part: The entire thing fit right into my purse. I pumped that weekend on my little battery-powered machine. And there is the second-best part: Once it's all charged up, there are no plugs and cords.
There was no way, however, that I'd be snapping this thing to my belt and walking around the house. I had a second leaking issue: The horns are rubbery, not hard plastic, so some of the milk actually catches on the rubber and drips back out.
I also never felt like I got as much milk with it as I did with my old trusty sedan of a pump, though I did like the timer on it (it made me feel like my pumping sessions weren't *really* taking up my entire workday).
The conclusion: If I was starting over tomorrow and hadn't spent my $300 on the Pump in Style, I would probably buy it and assume with time, like with the Pump In Style, I'd figure it out and get used to it. But I still feel like there are some little quirks to be worked out that made me wonder how many women actually tested this thing before it came on the market.
Close, but needs some tweaks.
Moooo.
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By Stacey Garfinkle |
May 13, 2008; 12:01 AM ET
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