(Don't worry - this is not the kind of sad story that makes you go and hug your sleeping baby a little tighter (not that you shouldn't!). I do not tell those kinds of stories, nor do I like to read them. I know the what-ifs, and drilling them into my head everyday surely isn't helping me to sleep any better at night. Praying for Ava's safety and thanking God for the miracle that is my little one, however, is.)
Fortunately this did not happen to me. Unfortunately, it did happen to someone I know.
Many of my readers know what it is like to pump, day after day, some several times a day, to store up milk for nights out, days away, work. It's tedious, uncomfortable and a total pain in the ass, am I right? C'mon, I can't be the only one that feels that way. I love to nurse, but Lord I hate to pump.
Well, what I'm sure you can't imagine (since my own personal mind has blocked this thought as it's too painful and upsetting to me!) is having your freezer DIE. Yep - a friend of mine told me a horror story last night while on our baby playdate (more on that later!) about how when her first daughter was two months old, she wandered downstairs one day to find her freezer, well, unfrozen. She lost her entire stockpile of breastmilk.
This mom said it was one of her darkest days, with her not getting out of bed and spending the rest of the day crying over, well, spoiled milk.
While I wouldn't have understood the full horror of this incident pre-baby, I DO NOW. I wouldn't have even been able to make it to bed before my meltdown. I'd still be in a puddle on the kitchen floor.
Makes you want to go downstairs and hug your freezer/breast pump/electrician, doesn't it?