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I brought a breastpump and I loathed it.

I hated the noise it made. I hated that it plugged into the mains. I hated the way it looked when hooked up. I resented the plastic intrusion.

While boiling its monstrous components one day, I fell asleep and accidentally melted the lot. The (depressingly pricy) replacement flange (or whatever the fuck its called) gave me a nipple fissure. I actually felt rage.

The baby ate and I winced repeatedly until I could take no more, so I turned to guru Google for advice. Apparently hand expression was the way

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forward, to give the mangled nipple time to heal.

And I had a revelation. Using my hands was efficient and less invasive. I could feel the milk stored inside. I instinctively knew how to work my way around to make the milk flow quickly. It retrieved more (much more) than the pump. It felt real.

Boom.

Marmet technique. Check it out.

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- 28 Oct 16

I brought a breastpump and I loathed it.

I hated the noise it made. I hated that it plugged into the mains. I hated the way it looked when hooked up. I resented the plastic intrusion.

While boiling its monstrous components one day, I fell asleep and accidentally melted the lot. The (depressingly pricy) replacement flange (or whatever the fuck its called) gave me a nipple fissure. I actually felt rage.

The baby ate and I winced repeatedly until I could take no more, so I turned to guru Google for advice. Apparently hand expression was the way forward, to give the mangled nipple time to heal.

And I had a revelation. Using my hands was efficient and less invasive. I could feel the milk stored inside. I instinctively knew how to work my way around to make the milk flow quickly. It retrieved more (much more) than the pump. It felt real.

Boom.

Marmet technique. Check it out.

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Charlotte lives in Malaysia. It's pretty hot. But the other kids are nice. She feared motherhood until 38+5, when she was gifted miniature DM's.

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