Thursday, June 2, 2016

Oh, A Pumping I Will Go


     I have a very dear friend who a few years ago made an absolutely horrible and very destructive life decision. This decision had a huge impact on his future and resulted in a number of serious consequences, the most obvious of which was a five to ten year prison sentence. Having known him well for years prior to this decision, I chose to remain friends with him after. My choice to remain a part of his life meant that our friendship would be reduced to letters, fifteen minute phone calls and long lines waiting for short visits at three different correctional facilities spread across our beautiful state of Pennsylvania. During my pregnancy, I continued frequent visits to his current home, SCI Pine Grove in Indiana, PA.

     Visiting an inmate is always a weird experience. The guards have always been very kind and welcoming to me and I noticed that the facilities themselves for the most part go out of their way to make visiting areas as unprisony as possible, while still minding safety and maintaining order. I believe that this is mostly for the children who visit parents and siblings there. I often saw and appreciated guards who would joke and act silly with young kids as they performed their drug screens and searches to make the experience a bit more pleasant and less scary for them. As a trauma therapist who has worked extensively with kids and adults who were traumatized as kids I always took note of and appreciated this extra effort on the corrections officer's part.

     Their efforts to make the visits as pleasant as possible were usually overshadowed however, by the general unpleasantness of being in a prison. The air itself becomes oppressive as you walk through the long corridor that connects the visitors center to the actual visiting room, which is located inside of the facility walls. Every step that you make, even as a visitor is carefully examined and you are immediately informed if you step one small foot over a policy line. With that and the experiences of walking through metal detectors and participating in drug scans, visits tend to be uncomfortable at best. For a pregnant person, this discomfort is multiplied. I can't count the number of times that I had to explain to people that it wasn't a big deal that my friend wouldn't be out by my due date because he wasn't any relation to the child that I was carrying.

     The drive from my home to Pine Grove takes exactly an hour and a half and as my pregnant belly became larger and my pee breaks more frequent and urgent, I could not imagine any way that the trip could possibly be more miserable. Suddenly, I needed to stop once each way for a bathroom break and then as the months ticked on, twice each way.  What was already a pain in the ass trip was now a pain in my straining bladder as well. By the time I was one month from my due date and stopped making the long drive to visits, I had learned every gas station and restaurant between here and Indiana.

     Not wanting to be so far from home so close to my due date, I took the month of June off from visiting. My plan had been to start again a few weeks after my son was born but it turned out, that after having Archer I couldn't pull myself away from him on my days off to make the long trip and I just didn't feel comfortable having him with me in that environment. So my visits, which had been so important before, quickly fell by the wayside. But my guilt of abandoning my dear friend eventually got the best of me and when Archer was about three months old I left him with my husband and packed my car for the tedious drive to Indiana.

     To visit a prison is usually pretty light packing. You aren't allowed to take anything with you into the prison, no purses, jackets, sweatshirts, not even your license into the actual visiting room. At Pine Grove you may carry your locker key and a small debit card that holds money for snacks only. Usually I would leave with just my license in my wallet for the trip. But not this time. Now, I was a nursing mommy and that meant breast pads, nursing bras and pumping equipment. At that point in nursing I was feeding Archer every two hours on the dot if not sooner. This meant that I would need to pump right before I went into the visiting room, visit for two or so hours, and then pump immediately after before my drive home. So that morning, bright and early, I walked my big butt and my little pump out to the car for a road trip.

     Anyone who has known me for any length of time, knows that I was late to my own birth and have never caught up since. Time management is not my strong suit. This does not play well for prison visits any more than it does in the outside world. In fact, it's worse. By the time I left my house, I had only given myself the time that I needed to physically drive to the prison. If I took the time necessary to stop on the way and actually go into a bathroom somewhere on my route, then it would put me past the sign in time for visits and I would be required to wait until after lunch and shift change to get in, which would in turn screw up my pumping schedule for the rest of the trip.

      I realized this when I was about halfway to Indiana. So, being the proverbial good sport that I am, I simply pulled off to the side of the road into what appeared to be the parking lot of a closed building and promptly set up my pump. Sitting there looking at these two intrusive funnels, I found myself making a disturbing discovery. Due to the very strict policies of the prison regarding attire during visits and the brisk weather that day, I was not wearing a shirt that was anywhere near pumping friendly. I had absolutely no entrance for easy access to where I needed to be.

     I felt my optimistic outlook for the day shrivel away with the last of my pride that I had left after having a baby and fueled by an overall sense of frustration I took a deep breath and as quickly as humanly possible, shimmied out of my shirt and into my pumping bra with my car facing the highway, just praying that everyone there was responsibly watching the road and not the naked lunatic pulled off to the side. Pump in place, I covered myself with a random blanket that I had stashed in the back seat since who knows when and put my car into drive preparing to pull back out onto the highway. I glanced in my rear view mirror to see a line of about ten cars sitting behind me waiting patiently. “Wtf?” I thought before realizing that the closed facility in which I was parked was actually a very open recycling plant. “Son of a...” With red cheeks and a working breast pump I pulled back out onto the highway, begging God that no one would hit me, sending these hard plastic funnels barreling completely through my chest cavity. I played the image over and over in my head of the poor police officer who would have to try and figure out that crash scene...

     I pumped the rest of the way to Indiana and ended up taking my pump off while parked under an obviously haunted bridge to avoid having to do so in the prison parking lot. I made sure to enjoy my visit knowing that it would be my last until Archer was weaned.

     On my way home, I pulled into a gas station and pumped in the bathroom like a respectable grown-up. True to my word, I haven't been back to visit my friend since. I feel guilty about this abandonment of my friend often but remind myself that Archer is my only priority now and I never need to feel a moment of guilt for that. I can say with confidence that my days of pumping in the car are definitely behind me.

     Becoming a mom alters your priorities in a way that you could never have predicted. Things that used to be important barely matter now. Sometimes there can be feelings of guilt associated with that, but I think that it is important for all of us mommies to stop beating ourselves up over things that at the end of the day, really don't matter. If you can look into your child's face and know that the choices that you made, regardless of how they turned out in the end, were what seemed like the best thing for them at the time, then you have done your job.

     And if you are a mommy who finds herself in the position of needing to pump in the car, I have three words for you... Button down shirt.

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