I was hanging out with some work friends at a party, and a group of women were congregating underneath a tent-like thing waiting for a big rain storm to pass through the area.
I think we were talking about struggles with weight loss, and one woman started talking about how the pounds just poured off while she was breastfeeding. She explained how she became a 'lactivist' on behalf of some of the junior women at her command when their male supervisors were not being very sympathetic about the need to express milk every few hours.
They did not understand why they had to provide a separate private clean location for this purpose. "Why can't they just do it in the bathroom?" one man in need of a little sensitivity training said to my colleague. Most of the younger guys were much more sympathetic, and they cleaned out a portion of the common fridge so that the breast milk would have a place to be stored during the work day.
At my last unit, I gave up my private office for a pending reorganization of a bigger joint work space, which freed up another office to be used as the official lactation room. We all helped to clear out the office furniture, and I went in one day to see what had been moved back in. I was horrified to see a scary government issued arm chair filled with at least two decades of dust mites and coffee stains was the only thing to sit on in the room.
The next day I brought in a bentwood rocker, cleanly laundered pillow and throw and some artwork that we did not have wall space to accommodate at our house. The two young moms that were using the space were very grateful. We banished the yucky chair.
Unfortunately the room became an office once again, as the breastfeeding moms were transferred to new cities the same time that I left Alaska, and none of the remaining coastie women needed the room.
I gave the artwork to some people in the building, and the rocker came with us to Michigan, along with the satisfaction of having helped some of my co-workers nourish their young ones!
I think we were talking about struggles with weight loss, and one woman started talking about how the pounds just poured off while she was breastfeeding. She explained how she became a 'lactivist' on behalf of some of the junior women at her command when their male supervisors were not being very sympathetic about the need to express milk every few hours.
[borrowed from http://www.sierraclubgreenhome.com/cms/wp-content/uploads/2008/09/water-bottle-baby-bottle.jpg] |
They did not understand why they had to provide a separate private clean location for this purpose. "Why can't they just do it in the bathroom?" one man in need of a little sensitivity training said to my colleague. Most of the younger guys were much more sympathetic, and they cleaned out a portion of the common fridge so that the breast milk would have a place to be stored during the work day.
At my last unit, I gave up my private office for a pending reorganization of a bigger joint work space, which freed up another office to be used as the official lactation room. We all helped to clear out the office furniture, and I went in one day to see what had been moved back in. I was horrified to see a scary government issued arm chair filled with at least two decades of dust mites and coffee stains was the only thing to sit on in the room.
The next day I brought in a bentwood rocker, cleanly laundered pillow and throw and some artwork that we did not have wall space to accommodate at our house. The two young moms that were using the space were very grateful. We banished the yucky chair.
Unfortunately the room became an office once again, as the breastfeeding moms were transferred to new cities the same time that I left Alaska, and none of the remaining coastie women needed the room.
I gave the artwork to some people in the building, and the rocker came with us to Michigan, along with the satisfaction of having helped some of my co-workers nourish their young ones!
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