Rural PA

Dominick and I took the long trek to New York today. Leave it to a newborn to turn a six and a half hour trip into an eight and a half hour trip. This was not due to his crying, fussing, and screaming, for there really wasn't any. It is just what comes along with dragging a six week old around with you.

After about an hour and a half of driving, it was time for Dominick to eat. I obviously knew he would need to eat along this trip. Being the prepared mother that I am, I had bottles ready to go, thinking this would be more efficient than giving him the boob. I pulled off an exit in lovely rural Pennsylvania. I had half a tank of gas, but figured I'd fill up while I was off the highway and stopped, so I followed the sign for the gas station.

Once I found the gas station, I realized that the bottles that I had were still too cold to feed to D-Nick. With no warm water to run over them to warm them up, I had to breastfeed him. And, look at that picture. Does it look like an acceptable place to whip your breast out and attach a baby to it? Nope, it doesn't.

As luck may have it, I noticed a large, empty parking lot across the street. I turned into it, thinking it was the perfect place to feed him. Yes, the Jehovah Witness Kingdom Hall parking lot would due just fine.

Is that weird? I thought it may be a little and felt as though Jehovah may be watching me. But, I had to do what I had to do. 

A bottle feeding and 400 miles later, we arrived at my parents house. Now, we are ready for Hurricane Irene to come over the weekend. I still cannot figure out why I brought my baby to a hurricane. Shouldn't people have come out to our little safe haven in Ohio? 

P.S. That Gulf gas station in the middle of nowhere did not actually have a gas pump.