When Tori last visited, it was the weekend of my complete and utter meltdown.
It was prior to being diagnosed with PPD, and right after I'd visited the lactation consultant. I was pumping or feeding every two hours to get my milk production up.
Misery and exhaustion. And lots and lots of pumping. Pumping while eating. Pumping while chatting. Pumping, pumping, and more pumping.
Tori, who was here all weekend, had never seen breast pumping in action before. Quite frankly, if it doesn't horrify my friends, it's much nicer to be able to hang out with people while doing it than sequester yourself 54 times a day.
I mean, I don't pump milk at the bus stop or anything. I have to know you well enough to be hanging out with you in my house.
Seeing milk expressed is bizarre and actually kind of interesting. You might assume the milk comes out of one central hole, like a faucet. But really, it's more like a showerhead.
I had the sobbing meltdown and was on the verge of losing my mind completely when Nick stepped in and urged me out the door.
So Tori and I headed out for coffee and shopping.
As we were waiting in line at Starbucks, she said the following:
"You know, I've developed a profound respect for your boobs."
I didn't notice the reaction of the guy in front of us. But Tori did.
So she added, "And of course I respect you as a person as well."