I thought I had it all figured out, you know? The pumping schedule, the early morning scramble to get everyone fed and dressed, the quick kiss goodbye that always feels too rushed but has to be. I even managed to find that silk blouse I bought years ago, before all this, when I thought my biggest worry was what brand of coffee to buy. It felt like putting on an old skin, one that remembered long nights out and quiet mornings, a life where my body was just mine. I wanted to walk back into that office like nothing had changed, like I hadn’t spent the last three months tethered to a tiny human who demands everything and gives back only a smile that melts your bones. The meeting started, all the usual droning about projections and deliverables, and I was trying to keep my face neutral, trying to look like I was absorbing every single word, even though my brain felt like a sieve. Then I felt it, that familiar prickle, a sudden warmth spreading across my chest. My heart started thumping against my ribs like a trapped bird. I looked down, slowly, trying to be casual, and there they were. Two dark, blooming circles on the silk, spreading out like ink on blotting paper. They were undeniable, impossible to hide, a stark, wet declaration of my new reality splashed across my old illusion. The silk clung to my skin, cold and clammy, a constant, humiliating reminder. All I could think about was the cost of that blouse, how I’d saved up for it, how it was a splurge that felt like an investment in a future I barely recognized now. And the pads, sitting neatly on the bathroom counter at home, a silent reproach. I just wanted to disappear, to sink through the floorboards and out into the street, away from the knowing glances I could almost feel, even if no one was actually looking. All that effort, all that planning, for this. For a damp stain to broadcast my failure, to announce to the world that I was still just a milk machine, leaking and exposed. It felt like a betrayal, by my body, by my memory, by everything. And all I could taste was the bitter tang of it, sharp and metallic on my tongue.