In this picture I’m lulling a baby to sleep with one arm while a pump is attached to my breast to catch let down milk. Bottles of milk, lampin (cloth diaper) and baby wipes are occupying as much space on my table as unfinished inventories, requisitions and notepads. This is the nth time that my baby tries to sleep in my arms today. She couldn’t find her position and couldn’t sleep long so she keeps on crying. The telephone keeps on ringing, so does the doorbell the doorbell. The sound of my keyboard wakes her up. The voices of my co-workers, the printer, my coughing, the scooters outside. I pick her up whenever she cries, dance with her, feed her, cradle her, everything just so she’ll stop crying and won’t annoy my colleagues or God forbids that the person on the other side of telephone asks why a baby is crying in the background. And when she doesn’t stop, well, there’s always the breasts.
I don’t know what my colleagues think of it. I don’t even dare ask. Although I have an agreement with my boss, I know I am not delivering as much as I used to. In moments like this, I am very grateful to work for a company that allows me to work and be with my child at the same time. And to have colleagues who are very understanding. I won’t exchange this for a bigger paycheck or a higher position.