Whoosh-hum.

Say it with me, in a breathless sort of way: whoosh-hum, whoosh-hum, whoosh-hum, whoosh-hum, whoosh-hum, whoosh-hum.

Now imagine hearing that noise for 15 minutes a day, 3 times a day. Seems like it might be not so bad, almost zen-like, right? Ahh, but wait: next, imagine that you are sitting in an abandoned office, on an uncomfortable office chair, straight as a rod and leaning slightly forward, staring at blank white walls while your hands are holding milk pumping contraptions tightly to your chest. Milk is dripping into the bottle at every hum. Dripping is the operative word here, there is no rushing the process. You can dial up the power and/or frequency on the electric pump, but then you will add discomfort-verging-on-pain to the equation (I know because I tried). You can't do anything but wait and listen "whoosh-hum (drip), whoosh-hum (drip), whoosh-hum (drip)". After a few minutes the flow tapers off but doesn't quite stop for another 5, and you've been told to pump until you are empty, so you sit and watch the dribbles of milk... then turn the machine off, pack everything away, re-dress yourself, walk out to the break room to wash all the gear and store the milk in the fridge. And start all over again 2.5 hours later.

Ahh, the joys of the breastfeeding working mom...