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ABSTRACT
Many women who pump their breast milk report that their pumps speak repeated words or phrases. Women who experience this auditory illusion interpret the pumps as commenting on the activity of pumping, taunting them, and giving advice. Often the pump insults the pumper and taunts her with her perceived inadequacies. Personal experience narratives of the talking breast pump exposes anxieties about pumping vs. breastfeeding as well as anxieties about going back to work after giving birth. KEYWORDS: Personal experience narratives, blogs, auditory illusion, internet communities, breast feeding
On a mommy blog in July 2008, Amy S. responded to a post about breast pumps with the following entry from her journal:
Mar 16, 3:14am: "Snap my arm, snap my arm, snap my arm..."
I truly think I'm losing it. It's the middle of the night, I'm sitting in the dark, on the edge of my bed, pumping and pumping for eternity. One ounce. My robe is agape, the AC coaxing goosebumps from the frigid expanse of each exposed breast, and the whirring message of the breast pump only offers more confusion to my already muddled, sleepdeprived mind.
"Snap my arm, snap my arm, snap my arm..."
Two ounces. If I'm not just sitting here in a stupor, with literally no thoughts slogging through the muck that passes for my mind lately, I am puzzling out my secret message. Is it telling me to snap its arm? My own? It doesn't even have arms, so it must be mine its speaking of. But why is it saying "my" then? Is my subconscious speaking to me through the breast pump? Why should I snap my own arm? Am I self-damaging? Delusional? Is this PPD? I don't feel depressed... Do I? No, of course not. No, maybe I'm taking this too literally. What does snap my arm mean? Really mean? Broken arm, broken limb, useless limb, crippled limb, crippled. Crippling, is the pump crippling me? It's never enough, not for Caiden, not for working. I can't be a good mother if I can't breastfeed, can't breastfeed if I can't pump. Can't pump at work so I can't breastfeed so I can't be a good mom. Working is crippling me as a mother. AHA!!! STOP WORKING!!!
Three ounces....