After giving birth to my 2nd child, my husband gave me and my mom an 8 day trip to Europe.  I was beside myself with excitement.  He agreed to watch the kids, a 2 year old and 4 month old, and I agreed, for a greater cause, to take the breast pump and keep pumping while I was there.

As we’re checking into the Four Seasons, my mom, in all her excitement, agrees to watch the luggage while I check us in.  Upon my return, I lean down to grab the pump, inconspicuously hidden in a black back pack, and IT’S NOT THERE! I panicked, because you know women, you can’t quit pumping cold turkey, or your boobs will inflate like a Macy’s Day float; and then you are in big trouble.  I searched the lobby, asked my mom if she had seen it and even spoke with hotel security.  I didn’t care if I lost all my clothes or money, but I needed that PUMP, not only for my son, but I knew in about 2 hours, my boobs were gonna be coming out of my sweat shirt and then what was I gonna do?  I was looking at little kids on the street, in a different way.  Hmm, does anyone need milk?

We reviewed the hotel security tapes and much to my amazement, you can see a hand slip next to my mother’s legs and a back pack is slowly removed, while my mom is looking around with anticipation and excitement that she’s really in Europe.  Say good bye to the breast pump, it’s gone!!  The security camera didn’t pick up a face, only a hand grabbing the bag; so now what?

We called every hospital in town, looking for a breast pump.  My mom was on a mission to save her daughter and her grand baby!  After calling just about every pharmacy in town, she found a “hand pump.”  Oh dear God, what was I gonna do with a little hand pump.  At this point, we’re 8 hours into no relief and my boobs are practically touching my chin, “no lie, I was scared!”  It’s 2am when she called the hotel lobby and requested a cab to take her to the pharmacy.

My mom said (in her Southern Accent ):  You won’t believe who showed up. It was Mohamed Al Fayed’s personal driver, you know, the owner of Harrod’s in London.  The guy shows up in a stretch limo; that’s right, a stretch limo.  My mom looked around as if the “Candid Camera Crew” was filming.  So off they go, mom in a stretch limo heading to the pharmacy at 2am to pick up a $20 breast pump! Dear Lord!  I couldn’t believe it.

At this point, my boobs are so big, I can’t move.  It was like carrying two huge boulders on my chest.  It was insane.  I had no idea that something so great could “TURN ON YOU” so quickly.  Here I was, lying in bed at the Four Seasons Hotel, watching those crazy English Channels, you now, the ladies with blue hair and fast cars, while my mom and I took turns pumping.  That’s right, by by pride, we took turns pumping, telling stories and laughing about the predicament we were in.

That was an unforgettable moment.  I never dreamed I’d been in a situation where my mom would be hand pumping my boobs.  “Mother of God” we pumped 18 ozs that day, as we laid in twin beds laughing our tales off at the situation we found ourselves in.  One of us would snicker, which turned into a “pee in your pants”, giggling fest.  I prayed that day, that whoever stole my breast pump would find no comfort or rest until they asked Jesus to Save them.  : )

AAHHA Moment:

Carry Your Pump at All Times.  Never let it out of your site, or you may find yourself in another country, feeding little children that you don’t know.  : )

What is Baby Brain:  Stephanie’s Dictionary defines it as:  a temporary brain fart caused by baby hormones.  It’s when your brain sparks but doesn’t quiet complete communication, leaving a pregnant mom trying to think of words like:  vehicle – but instead you say:  that thing full of cheerios in the driveway.

I was on my way to a Birthday party last year and noticed, after I had run errands that morning, that my black pants were inside out. Ok, my excuse is I’m pregnant and my brain cells had temporarily left the building.  The obvious one inch seams running down the sides of my pants were a dead give away. I took them off and changed during a red light, trying to hurry as a rather large truck pulled up along side of me. I think I gave myself a hair lip in the process. Oh, the joys of baby brain.

I heard Michael J. Fox on the David Letterman Show describing the difference in how the first child was treated, vs. the fourth.  It was quiet hilarious.   I’ll Paraphrase it:

With the first baby, when you drop the paci on the floor, you boil it before handing it back to the baby.  With the 2nd child, when you drop the paci, you place it under the faucet and rinse it with hot water.  With the 3rd child, when you drop the paci, you lick it and hand it back. With the 4th child, when you drop the paci, you let the dog lick it and hand it back. Isn’t that the truth?!

Stephanie’s View:

With the first child comes home from the hospital, you make everyone wash their hands.  If anyone coughs or looks like their gonna cough, they don’t get to hold the baby. They are one step away from wearing a haz-mat suite or being banished from the room. By the time the 3rd and 4th arrive, and the oldest says”  Mom, little Henry is eating the dog food, you stop and think “well, if it’s good for the dog . . .