The Motherlode Blog at the New York Times posted a story of hard-earned courage when faced with tough conditions pumping at work.
Novelist Lynn Messina wrote about keeping pumping a secret from her colleagues when nursing her first child, using a manual pump in a public bathroom.
When nursing her second child, and now working at a new business, she was given the run around when searching for the key to the pumping room.
By now I knew I was wasting my time. This wild-goose chase could end only one way: my engorged breasts leaking bodily fluid all over my shirt...
And with that, I felt something inside me break, a timidity I’d carried around my entire adult life. A sense of entitlement surged through me. I marched to the managing editor and requested an office, taped a sign on the door announcing my activity in large red letters, sat on the floor, opened my shirt and took out my breasts.
When I was done, I washed everything in the kitchen sink while an editor microwaved Lean Cuisine. Yes, ma’am, these are breast shields. I put them over my breasts when pumping.
Her next assignment, "a bastion of male power," had 14 lactation rooms.