(inspired by Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown)
In one of three nursing rooms, there was a table and a chair.
And a mirror that reflected both my breasts bare.
And an outlet for my plug and a milk-stained rug.
And a clock and a lock. Though people still always knocked.
And outside there were a microwave and a fridge.
And some soap and a sink.
And filtered water for me to drink.
Goodbye nursing room.
Goodbye pumping in the nursing room.Goodbye to the hospital-grade pump in my bedroom.
Goodbye tubing. Goodbye lanolin lubing.
Goodbye fenugreek. Goodbye breasts that leak.
Goodbye milk-storage bags. And goodbye microwave steam bags.
Goodbye pump-part sterilization. And goodbye alcohol moderation.
Goodbye milk letdowns. And goodbye milk-deficiency breakdowns.
Goodbye thrush. Goodbye engorged breasts.
And goodbye to the old lactation consultant whispering “breast is best.”
Goodbye plugged ducts. Goodbye nursing wear.
Goodbye to pumping everywhere.
(Editor's note: This article originally appeared on Medium. Bo Young Lee is a beauty writer and a mom of two silly, funny, curious, stubborn, adorable kids. In anticipation of her son’s upcoming first birthday, she was inspired to write this poem while pumping. It’s dedicated to all pumping moms—past, present and future.)