That one time the janitor unlocked the door, and I yelled, "Don't come in here!"

What is your most embarrassing moment? This is a question that seems to be asked on questionnaires so often. It is also a question that I have never really had a good, quality answer to... until about 7 months ago...

As I have mentioned on this blog before, I had set a goal when Brody was born that I was going to breastfeed him for a whole year. I knew that this was not going to be easy for me since I would be starting to do my student teaching when he turned about 4 months old. We purchased a quality, electric, double pump though, and I was set. So, during the 5 months that I worked full time at the school, I'd pump before my first class of the day, I'd pump during my lunch break, and I'd usually pump again after school. (I had about a 50 minute commute back home.) My life surrounded teaching and pumping.

Being a first time mom especially, I definitely was not super comfortable about talking about breastfeeding, and pumping, and anything else that goes along with that part of motherhood. I exited my shell a bit though when I asked the secretary at the Junior High office where the best place would be to pump. She gave me permission to just lock my classroom door, and pump in there.

My classroom had one of those bubbly windows on the door, that are difficult to see through. However, even though it is hard, you can still see through it if you put your face up close. So to decrease my fear of ever being witnessed in this very revealing position, I taped a school poster on the inside of the window.

I then took an extra chair and put it right next to the door. This was now my designated "pumping chair". I don't know if any of my seventh graders ever wondered why there was a random chair sitting next to the pencil sharpener or not, but it was always there.

So I'd sit there, with my back against the wall, and the door next to me. I always wanted to be in very close proximity to that door, because even though I made sure, and double made sure, that it was locked, I just never knew.

There were times I'd be pumping, shirt pulled all the way up (if I happened to be wearing a dress that day, my dress was definitely pulled up to my chin), and students would need to get into my room for some reason during lunch. I could hear them in the hall, approaching my door, and I'd hold my breath... "please pass by, please pass by," I'd think... The times they stopped, they would knock, they would jiggle the doorknob, they would knock again, they would jiggle the doorknob some more... and I would be right on the other side of the door praying, with my bare belly exposed, breasts exposed with a double pump attached to them, praying that they would just conclude that no one was inside the room and leave. They'd eventually leave, and I would start to breath again.

If only they knew what was actually going on inside the classroom. They might have died.

Anyway, one day, I was just minding my own little breast pumping business, and I hear the familiar sound of the garbage can on wheels rolling down the hall. I didn't think much of it... until it came to a stop in front of my classroom door. The next sound I hear is keys moving quickly to unlock it. I'm pretty sure at this moment my entire life flashed before my eyes. I immediately threw down my pump, my bottles full of milk, stood up as fast as I could, and grabbed onto that opening classroom door- the door that was about to lead to my deathbed- as fast as I could and yelled, "Don't come in here!!!!"

The janitor responded with a quick and confused, "Sorry!" and rolled his garbage can down the hallway with a little more speed than before. "What a freakin' weirdo," is what he was probably thinking. I recognized the voice though. It was the youngest janitor at the school- probably around my own age- which seriously made it so much worse.

I remember I just sat on the floor of my classroom, and just starred at the wall for a few minutes. It was the only thing I could get myself to do in order to come to grips with what had just happened. I took a lot of deep breaths too. That was definitely necessary for my survival.

After cleaning up the mess I had made of milk all over the classroom floor with my rag that I used for my overhead projector (don't worry, I threw the used rag away after that one), I got myself put together again and headed straight to the office. I HAD to tell someone what had just happened to me before I had to face the world again- teaching nonetheless.

I went and told the secretary what had happened and she just laughed. Her laugh made me feel SO much better. She had pumped the previous year for her baby and knew EXACTLY the alarming feeling I was having. Even though a close call (VERY close call) had never happened to her, it sure felt good to laugh about it with someone.

She agreed to talk to the young janitor about what had happened since I knew for sure he now though I was a screaming lunatic. I wonder what went through his head when I screamed for him to not enter the room. He must have thought I was sorting my drugs or something. Or seriously, it makes me scared when I try to think of the many possible conclusions that could have come into his head.

I thought this was a good plan (her talking to him about what had happened) until after school that day. I was walking down the staircase, which was near the office, and she was leaning on the propped open office door, explaining the situation to him RIGHT THERE. Oh. my. goodness. I could have died for the second time that day. Here I was, just trying to leave my job, and she coincidentally was talking to him right then. I could not have timed my exit any worse. I quickened my walk as fast as I could and left. I KNOW that they saw me though. I KNOW that they saw me WHILE they were talking about my pumping, and my milk, and my embarrassment, and my boobs. Well, maybe they weren't specifically talking about my boobs... but seriously, they may have well been!

The rest of the year, every time I saw that janitor in the hallway... let's just say I became really good at the no eye contact thing.

So yes, I do have a most embarrassing moment. And no, it probably won't be explained well on a questionnaire, but I thought I'd write it on this little blog so I don't forget about it. (Even though I don't know how I would.)

And now, after 7 months, I finally feel comfortable enough to share it with other people.