Bachelorettes, breast milk, and bar hopping: how I pumped my way through a girls’ weekend
When I got the invite to a bachelorette weekend in San Diego, I knew I had to go. She’s one of my best friends. It was just three days — Friday through Sunday — a two-hour drive down the mountain followed by a flight. But one question kept echoing in my mind: How am I supposed to exclusively pump all weekend when I’m used to exclusively breastfeeding?
Oh — and how on earth do I leave my baby?
I knew deep down it was the right thing to do — for me, for my baby, and even for my husband. A little “mom’s weekend out” felt like exactly what I needed. A short trip, the perfect first-time getaway.
Naturally, I went into full research mode. I looked up everything I could about traveling with breast milk — especially going through TSA with frozen or fresh milk. (If you’re curious, I highly recommend reading more here.)
I talked with lactation consultants and leaned on my sister (a pumping queen) to come up with a plan. We bought extra bottles — we only had two at the time — so my husband wouldn’t have to wash constantly. I got wearable pumps for pumping on the go, so I could stay present and not be the “buzzkill who had to run home to pump.” I felt ready.
My flight was early Friday morning. While I was pumping before leaving, my baby woke up — so we decided to drive to the airport together. I fed her a bottle in the car and gave her one last kiss. Leaving her was hard. But I reminded myself: I’m not just a mom — I’m my own person too. And I needed this.
The flight was quick. As soon as I landed, I pulled up the Mamava app (highly recommend for anyone breastfeeding while traveling — more on that here). I skipped baggage claim to pump first, using the portable milk chiller I’d brought to store it safely. Later, I grabbed ice from a restaurant to keep it cool until I got to the Airbnb.
We had no plans until dinner, so I got into a rhythm — pumping every three hours (just like my baby’s feeding schedule) and storing the milk in the freezer at the Airbnb. That night, I pumped before heading to dinner, wore my portables on the walk back, and stored the milk once I got home.
But then — surprise! I felt a large, rock-hard lump that wouldn’t go away while I pumped. A clogged duct. My first ever. On a bachelorette trip.
No time for warm compresses or showers. I massaged the lump as best I could, and even though we went out bar-hopping that night, I eventually called it early and went back to pump. Thank goodness — it helped. By morning, the lump was smaller, and a hot shower and hand expression got rid of it completely.
The next day was full — brunch, bar golf, and more drinks than I would’ve felt comfortable saving milk through. So I had to pump and dump. Twice.
Why is pumping and dumping so emotionally hard?! It feels like throwing away liquid gold. But I did it — wore my portables at the bar, laughed with friends, and made it work. I wore an exercise dress (10/10 recommend) and layered a jean jacket, buttoned just enough for modesty. Nobody batted an eye.
Honestly… it wasn’t bad. It was kind of funny. Picture: a packed bar, March Madness on TV, a bunch of girls celebrating — and me, quietly pumping under my jacket. Welcome to motherhood, right?
Sunday morning we cleaned up, packed, and headed to the airport. I’d prepared myself for TSA, so I wasn’t too nervous. I asked for my frozen milk to be hand-checked (not x-rayed), and they were super respectful. No issues.
My flight was on time, and when I landed, my husband and baby were there waiting — the best little welcome crew ever.
I still look back on that trip and feel proud. I figured out pumping while away, handled a clogged duct, and proved to myself that breastfeeding doesn’t have to hold me back. It was empowering.
If you’re on the fence about taking a trip without your baby: you can do it. Plan ahead, give yourself grace, and pack the portables.
Motherhood doesn’t mean missing out. Sometimes, it means showing up — pumps and all.
