OK, fine, but what if your job has a private space with a locking door that's not the bathroom where you can
pump for as long as you need as often as you need so that you can use your industrial
strength breast pump which by some miracle you can afford so you can now fill up bag after bag
of fresh healthy milk every three hours at work for six months straight and your supportive husband can drive to work and pick it up for you so you don't even have to store it in the gross community refrigerator so as to avoid the all - too - inevitable jokes about whether you're going to «whip up a milkshake for everyone» or remarks such as, «Guess we'll be just fine when the coffee creamer runs out?»