My first son was a few months old when I decided, in my new mom delirium, to have dinner with some friends. I knew I might get engorged, but figured I would be back soon enough. I didn’t feel like bringing my electric pump. It seemed like a huge hassle for only being gone a few hours. I didn’t even bring breast pads. (I know, I know, you’re all rolling your eyes right now). I deserved what I got, which was 2 golf ball-sized leak marks on my shirt that were illuminated dark blue on my light blue shirt. I ran to the bathroom to shove toilet paper into my bra, but the damage was done. [Read more…]