Syeda Fauzi traveled to campus during the week with three separate bags: one for her books, her lunch and her breast pump after her son Fakhry was born in April 2015. Fauzi is entering her final year as a Ph.D. student in Human Resources Development at the University.

Every morning, she’d pack up her supplies, sure to include not just the pump, but bottles to store the milk in and ice packs to keep it cold. Breast pumping was a necessary habit for Fauzi and one she was familiar with from when her first son Faris was born in 2008.

However, where Fauzi would actually end up pumping each day continued to be unknown to her.

The study rooms on the silent floor of the Undergraduate Library proved to be her best option. It was central on campus and usually had availability at the times when she’d need it.

While the space provided an outlet and a door that would close, Fauzi still had to deal with a lack of privacy. She’d keep her back turned to the door and windows and the drone of her pump, a noise loud enough for other students to hear, would draw the attention of students nearby.

Fauzi could make do with the conditions, although they were far from ideal. She noticed she was producing far less milk compared to when she was breastfeeding her firstborn.

According to the American Institute of Architects, the study rooms in the UGL do not suffice for an adequate lactation space, or wellness room.

“Wellness rooms should provide, at a minimum, a lockable door; a work surface and chair; a small utility-type sink; storage for cleaning supplies and paper towels; adequate HVAC service, and well-placed electrical outlets,” Liz York wrote in a best practice article.

For Fauzi, just having a designated space to rely on and not having to chance all the study rooms being occupied, even without all the recommended components, would have made her life a lot simpler.

“Not having this lactation space slowed me down a little bit where sometimes I’d get frustrated and go, ‘you know what, I’ll just go home,’” Fauzi said.

Stress is shown to affect how much milk a nursing mother can produce, yet Fauzi began to blame herself for this. She worried her attention was too focused on completing her Ph.D. and that she was failing her sons.

“Part of me (would) feel guilty for a lot of things. Like first, of course, the feelings of not spending enough time with my kids and then second not spending enough time with my husband,” Fauzi said.

The choice to keep her role as a mother and a student separate required a lot of planning on Fauzi’s part. She’d often need to prepare the milk for her son ahead of time, or her husband would bring him onto campus so she could feed him during a break.

“I (would) still bring my pump to the library, just hoping for a better day. Maybe the quiet room will be empty or maybe there will be less people in the library so I can pump there,” Fauzi said.

The need to always be thinking ahead about lactation spaces brought Fauzi unneeded stress, but she continued to juggle her academic and family duties while holding tight to the mindset that one day her sons would no longer need to breastfeed, and this wouldn’t be her reality forever.

Photo by Jessica Peterson

“If it doesn’t affect you, you’re not aware”

Lauren Karplus holds her son in her arms with a tenderness which epitomizes the phrase “a mother’s touch.” Her computer whirs in front of her as it sits on top of her desk. It’s a constant reminder of all the tasks still on her agenda for the day as an International Advising Specialist for students at the University.

At the International Student and Scholar Services department, Karplus works with students by appointment and during a set period of drop-in hours she has during the week. Karplus describes her role as someone who can offer guidance on “all things immigration” for students navigating college and being away from their home country.

Karplus and her husband, Jason Kandume who works as a visiting specialist at the Agricultural and Biological Engineering Department, had baby Pandu back in October 2017.

Pandu has a soft, brown complexion—one that mirrors his father’s—and a knack for smiling. With roots tied back to the Wambo tribe in Namibia, the boy fits right in amongst the different cultures and backgrounds of students who walk in and out of the ISSS department every day.

Even when Karplus doesn’t bring him to work with her, he still takes up chunks of her time. Between faculty meetings and student walk-in hours, she now takes 10-to-15 minutes to pump when she has a spare moment. When she first returned to work, she had to carve 30-minute time slots into her calendar and would mark them as “private appointments.”

At these times, Karplus shuts her door, pulls the blinds and plugs in her breast pump in order to express milk three times a day. She then stores the milk in small baby bottles she keeps cold with an ice pack in a lunch box to save as a meal for Pandu the next day. Her pumping schedule mimics the times Karplus would feed her son when she was with him all the time on maternity leave.

It is not uncommon for something to come up in the workday that forces Karplus to hold off on pumping or do so during her lunch break instead. She still manages her professional life and motherly duties but emphasizes why the combination of the two work for her.

“The only reason pumping works for me is because I have a private office,” Karplus said.

There are days when Karplus needs to travel for her job as a student adviser for conferences around campus. On top of being sure to bring along all the supplies needed to pump, she’s learned to call ahead and arrive early to the location in order to access an often makeshift lactation space.

When she’s working outside of her office, Karplus is passed between employees until finally finding the right person to talk to about finding a lactation space. The knowledge of lactation spaces in the building tends to be limited, with the exception of a select few who either have had to use the rooms before or take care of maintenance in the building.

“The lack of space, the lack of accommodation and the lack of thought that goes into accommodating is very evident,” Karplus said.

Usually for Karplus, the first thing other employees offer to her is the use of the women’s bathroom. However, she’s found there tends not be outlets available so she can’t even use her pump. And when there are outlets they are positioned close to the door, eliminating any chance of her having guaranteed privacy from colleagues and students she works with.

“Some people act like it’s a really big imposition that you’re going there and asking that,” Karplus said.

She recounted announcements being made in random office meetings full of men about her need to breast pump, as if the employees needed to “shout it out to the rooftops,” and felt received as an annoyance. Almost as if the staff had never been presented with this kind of request before.

“If I had to spend every day the way I have to spend when I’m out of my office trying to find spaces to pump, I’d switch to formula in an instant. You wouldn’t even be able to get work done (when) you’re so busy trying to find a spot,” Karplus said.

Karplus has pumped in gender-neutral bathrooms that have a lock on the door, highly aware of how her 20 minutes to pump could be preventing someone else from being able to use them.

She’s used study rooms only to realize after the fact there had been a student sitting in direct view of her through the small window. At a hotel once, instead of being provided with an empty room, she was invited to use a supply closet, squeezed in between boxes of Christmas decorations with a door so thin that the hum of her pump could obviously be heard by those passing by.

The AIA article York, Chief Sustainability Officer of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and a mother of three, wrote includes guidelines she stands by when considering these rooms from the perspectives of someone in the design world and someone who has needed these spaces herself.

“Particularly in public access facilities, such as airports, conference centers, libraries, museums, college campuses, shopping malls, and hotels, nursing mothers need a calm environment to breastfeed their babies and a secure space where their belongings, such as a stroller, can be accommodated,” York wrote.

Karplus realizes how the pressure of a fast-paced and professional work environment which she tends to internalize, may contribute to feelings of embarrassment when searching for a space in a new building. Aside from locating a space when out of the office or overcoming the initial learning curve from when she first began pumping, the biggest challenge for Karplus is a personal one.

“There is still that awareness of that any time I choose to pump it is putting a greater burden on some of my colleagues potentially…I need to be okay with taking time to pump, so sometimes I struggle with being okay with myself to do that,” Karplus said.

Photo by Jessica Peterson

“If people had to move around, it would be a nightmare.”

Courtney Byard, an eighth-year student in the Physics graduate program, expressed gratitude for the improvised lactation space for her and another student in an unused office in Loomis Laboratory of Physics, where she conducts all her research.

Byard had her daughter Vera on February 2018. Her daughter Vera’s chubby cheeks and intermediate steps to learning how to control the sounds she makes while giggling are her mom’s favorite things about her. She said starting her family at that time “just felt right,” and how she’d be unlikely to find a time that didn’t pose some possible inconveniences in the future.

Byard’s colleagues have been supportive and encouraging to her throughout her pregnancy journey, but she explained how her real support was formed off campus at Carle Hospital.

The prenatal sessions at Carle brought together multiple expecting couples to practice birthing techniques and get to know other soon-to-be parents. Before getting involved off campus, Byard had visited McKinley Health Center with the hope of gaining some direction before she actually became pregnant.

Byard said the notion of having a checkup regarding her plans to become pregnant was met with uncertain responses from the staff, causing feelings of discomfort.

“They were just like, ‘We don’t really do that here… Here’s your brochure,” Byard said.

Dr. Robert Woodward is the Medical Director at McKinley Health Center and wrote in an email that the reason McKinley does not have any obstetricians on staff is that it functions as a primary care clinic and consulting about breastfeeding or pregnancy falls under the category of specialty care.

“McKinley can refer patients to community providers who can take care of her prenatal needs,” Woodward wrote.

He also wrote that within the administrative staff there is a designated lactation space.

“A student simply needs to come to administration and the staff would direct her to that room,” Woodward wrote.

The clinic’s protocol for referring soon-to-be mothers to outside sources would not give these women many reasons to return during or after the pregnancy for related concerns. For this reason, it is probably less than obvious for nursing mothers to reach out to them when in need of a lactation space.

The insurance provided to graduate students isn’t one she saw fit for a baby’s needs, but because her husband Matthew Krafczyk studies computational reproducibility at National Center for Supercomputing Applications and is on different insurance, Vera is on that plan which will cater to her as she gets older.

This helped put the young family at ease, even after little support from McKinley, particularly since Byard and her husband look forward to seeing themselves grow their family.

Photo by Jessica Peterson

“Other people don’t understand if (they) aren’t a parent”

Three mothers met alongside the playground at Hessel Park in late April with their daughters close at hand. Kora Samayoa, the youngest of the three children was the only one not donning their matching dinosaur patterned outfits. Her mom, Alex, explained with a chuckle that it was because hers needed to be washed.

Nadia Hoppe, Serenity Stanton Orengo and Alex van Doren did not plan to get pregnant around the same time, but they’re grateful they did.

“If I didn’t have other friends with children around the same age as my daughter or if I was not an advanced Ph.D. candidate already, I probably would have dropped out,” van Doren said.

Hoppe and Orengo are both working towards their Ph.D.’s in Slavic Languages and literatures, Hoppe is in in her sixth year and Orengo is in her fifth year. They met van Doren, a Ph.D. student in Comparative Literature currently in her fifth and final year, through her work at the European Union Center on campus as a doctoral research associate.

Hoppe was the first to have her baby, Livia Froedge-Hoppe, toward the end of the fall semester in 2016 right around when she stopped taking coursework.

The winter break worked as her maternity leave, but Hoppe remembered asking her supervisors about what would happen if she were to deliver in the middle of the semester.

No one was able to give her a solid answer. The insecurity surrounding what the standard was for pregnant students grew to be so prominent that Hoppe began to wonder if the University even considered student parents to be a possibility.

“People want to be helpful but then they make you feel weird because maybe they haven’t done what you need from them,” Hoppe said.

This sentiment was echoed for Orengo who had been trying to get pregnant during the time she visited McKinley for an appointment. She took a pregnancy test and when it came back negative, the nurse congratulated her.

Orengo said the encounter “rubbed her the wrong way,” especially wondering if this was the automatic response the center gives to a patient who wasn’t pregnant.

The main reason McKinley would need to know about current pregnancy in a patient’s history is when performing X-rays or prescribing certain medications, according to Woodward. He also wrote in his email that the staff does not have a specific stance on whether a student should go through with an unplanned pregnancy.

“Questions are answered about all options and resources in the community and are given in a fair and unbiased manner,” Woodward wrote.

Orengo is not the only woman to have had this kind of experience. Byard recounted a friend telling her a similar story about McKinley.

The mothers know one other woman who works in the FLB and is breastfeeding, but they all found lactations spaces elsewhere, whether at a different job or off campus. Even with four mothers in the same building, the information was not made readily available to them.

Aside from knowing older men in graduate programs who have children, van Doren and Orengo have met very few student parents during their time at the University.

“I never see any pregnant people,” Orengo said.

The low visibility of this demographic on campus may contribute to the unpreparedness on the University’s end to supply resources or attitudes of disbelief when encountering a student mother on campus. Van Doren recalled working as a writing consultant in the UGL during her pregnancy was a time where she felt a lot of judgment as if she were a spectacle.

“Man, I would get nasty looks, I was really uncomfortable going to work every day because of (my pregnancy),” van Doren said.

The learning curve of becoming a parent is one Hoppe said she had to get used to after having Livia. Breastfeeding was something she had before considered to be incredibly natural and easy to get used to, but found this wasn’t the case for herself or others she spoke with— it was very easy to have something go wrong, whether it was low milk production or the baby latching incorrectly.

Now that Livia is just about two years old, the biggest concerns Hoppe has are related to insurance and daycare. The University has a Child Development Laboratory (CDL) that can serve as a daycare for faculty and students, but all three mothers described the enrollment process as difficult since the lab needs to meet certain demographics.

The true purpose of the CDL, however, is research. The CDL does not serve as an exclusive daycare for University faculty and students.

Due to this, many children are turned away, but Hoppe suggests the University create another source for daycare, one where perhaps payments are subsidized and could accommodate the schedule of Ph.D. or graduate students since their work spans further than just a typical 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. business day.

Adding a dependent on the University-provided health insurance has a very short window of time. Hoppe and van Doren both have had close calls with almost missing the deadline to get their daughters covered.

The mothers described themselves as lucky enough to have a friend who had already gone through the process to exchange knowledge, be validated about concerns or just to talk about their children with.

In the process of completing her Ph.D. Orengo also teaches introductory Russian courses (RUSS 101 and 201) to undergraduate students. To teach and form exercises for discussion and listening, her daughter Amalia’s life is a consistent subject within her classes.

“My students know all about her. I have whole listening activities that will be like ‘What did Amalia do last night.’ Like her birthday party was a whole activity,” Orengo said.

These mothers are far from strangers to the challenges of parenting, but this does not keep them from relishing the time they have with their daughters.

Hoppe envisions Livia to grow up and maybe rebel by going to trade school or becoming a musician, a path different than her own but one she would be thrilled to raise and support her through. The schedule flexibility that comes with being a grad student is something van Doren is grateful for because her daughter gets to be a part of her life in different ways.

“I love that she gets to be a part of everything I do. She’s like my little sidekick,” van Doren said.

Photo by Jessica Peterson

“The way we show our love is through our food”

Syeda Fauzi prepares dinner for her family in her kitchen, a narrow room just large enough to contain the bare minimum—counter space, sink, stove top, dishwasher—bent over multiple steaming pots.

“I cook every night but I don’t really mind it. Back in Malaysia, most socializing revolves around eating. It’s who we are as a people,” Fauzi said.

She stirred the chicken soup she prepared, then turned away from the stove with a smile, cheek to cheek.

Fauzi’s ease and willingness to serve others is visible as she places the finishing touches on dinner for her family and friends from Carbondale, who will be staying at her place for the weekend for their son’s soccer tournament.

Before having her sons, Fahkry, 3, and Faris, 9, it was just Fauzi and her husband, Muhamad Fauzi Salihin, who made the move from Malaysia to Urbana-Champaign back in 2007, only after being married for nine months. Muhamad works as a programmer for PAQ Interactive, a software company in Monticello. Since the initial move, they’ve expanded their family, but have only been back to visit Malaysia on two different accounts.

The Fauzi’s have visitors for dinner on a weekly basis. Fauzi claims to be notorious for asking Malaysian undergraduate students she knows from the small population that attend the University if they’ve eaten every time she encounters one of them.

“Here is very nice, but we still miss Malaysia. I think we feel lonely … we don’t have as much social support as we used to have in Malaysia,” Muhamad said.

Once the guests arrive, the energy in the room is palpable. There’s a buzz accompanying the reunion between Fauzi and the families in Malay, their native language. The gathering around the table to eat a meal similar to one they’d prepare in Malaysia allows for laughter and more conversation even after everyone has eaten.

“That’s the reason why we keep letting people come and eat. We want to socialize,” Muhamad said.

“He likes company and I like feeding people, so it works,” Fauzi chimed in.

The Fauzi’s do not hesitate to provide for others when they learn of a need. Their hospitality precedes them, a cultural trait that’s stayed with them since leaving Malaysia and one they’ve come to infuse in the lives of those who are lucky enough to know them.

Becoming a parent and pursuing one’s own goals are no longer a one-or-the-other situation — now, mothers are able to choose both.

Fauzi notes that some people hold a perception that mothers are a burden to society, but she disagrees fully. No matter how much one prepares she is unable to plan out her entire process of raising a child.

But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t learn along the way or ever consider retiring from motherhood.

“As a parent, it kind of comes naturally — you’ve got to make it work,” Fauzi said.

Author’s Note: A special thanks to Dr. Karen Flynn of the Gender Women’s Studies and African American studies departments and her students Ariana Flores and Megan Wong. Without their community research on lactation spaces and willingness to share their findings, this story would not have been possible.

Editor’s Note: A previous edition stated that Jason Kandume is from South Africa, but he is from Namibia. The Daily Illini regrets this error.

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