Follow Tmuffin:

Thursday, December 3, 2009


Never did I think that my boob loving little man would not love the boob. But we have hit a speedbump on the road of breastfeeding. My little man is having a love/hate relationship with the boob right now. I want to tell him, "Not now--there will be plenty of time for that love/hate stuff when you start having girlfriends" but he is growing up so fast. So he's starting early.

I have been away for a week or so for Thanksgiving. I had a great holiday visiting family. There is so much to be thankful for this year, having brought my beautiful son into the world. I have such a happy, healthy family. Baby T is able to be with his dad every day and doesn't have to be with strangers in daycare, his grandparents love him to pieces, and one set of grandparents lives close by. I really am very lucky.

But I am not thankful for the fact that babies can get sick! If only there was a rule that babies who can't talk or quite understand what is going on don't get sick. It is awful to watch your little one choking with mucus and unable to eat because he can't breathe. Even though I gave Baby T herbs before our Thanksgiving trip, he still got sick. Granted, it's not incredibly severe, but it is bad enough that he is--gasp--not nursing!

His favorite activity has been turned on its end either by me screwing with his routine, or by his being sick. It all started on our plane ride on Tuesday, on our way to my parents' house. He was starting to get cranky, and was so overtired, and we were about to land, so I figured he should nurse to avoid his ears getting clogged. I laid him down to nurse, and he screamed bloody murder! The poor people on the airplane. I have never seen Baby T cry so hard, even when he had a sitting mishap last week and fell over, bumping his head on the bedframe hard enough to get bruised and need ice. I thought maybe his ears hurt, and that nursing would definitely help, so I kept trying to put him onto the breast.

No dice. You would have thought I was hanging him by his toenails.

After that, the week progressed as normal, until Saturday morning. Again overtired and ready for a nap, I settled in the rocking chair in the dim room to nurse. FREAK OUT!! Baby T adamantly closed his lips and sharply drew away from the breast and proceeded to cry. For about 2 hours. Big T and I switched on and off bouncing, rocking, swadding, unswaddling, to no avail. Finally he calmed down after a bath, and starvingly reached for me as he said "mama" for the first time. Probably a coincindence, but I'll take it.

On the flight home that afternoon, Baby T nursed pretty well. He had a slight freak out but settled down quickly and nursed for the majority of the flight. Sunday went by without a hitch. Monday morning came, and when Baby T woke at 5:30, I really wanted to nurse him back to sleep. I was tired myself. I needed another hour. This was my first day back to work after a week off. Well, Baby T proceeded to scream until I pulled my shirt back down and got him into the living room. He had a doctor's appointment at 8:30, and I figured we'd try again after that. So come 10:30AM, Baby T is starving, but will. not. nurse. I ended up feeding him with a medicine dropper, with him starvingly opening his mouth for more. So he was hungry, but wouldn't suck. He had some issues with the bottle, too.

Phew, at least Mr. Gerber NUK is also feeling the rejection. Tougher than you could have imagined, huh, Mr. NUK? While little miss medicine dropper is happily rolling around in my baby's affection.

The past few days have been on and off with the nursing. When I get home from work, Baby T flings himself at me. The first day I came home from work, he buried his head in my chest immediately. It was so sweet. I carried him into the nursery while he pumped his fist in the sign for milk against my arm. (Not sure he knows what he is doing, but I am convinced he has finally picked up this sign, since I've been signing it every time he nurses since he was born). We sat down on our comfy chair, I lifted up my shirt, he bobbed at my breast, and proceeded to scream.

The rest of the evening involved a lot of toplessness, my wrap, the bath, Miss Medicine Dropper (damn you!) and milk all over my breasts. I assure you this is not as kinky as it sounds.

Eventually, dribbling milk on myself convinced Baby T to latch on, and he has nursed pretty well the past few days. But if he even catches sight of the medicine dropper out of the corner of his eye, he pulls off and tries to grab it and shove it in his mouth. So I have to be pretty stealth. Last night, when I came home from work, he practically sucked off my cheek and chin as soon as I picked him up. This morning, he didn't want any part of me or the medicine dropper (ha. take that.)

So it has been a long week. I have been so emotional. This is very draining. I love my cuddly quiet time with Baby T and always imagined that I could soothe him when sick by snuggling and nursing. But I'm only frustrating him half of the time, because he bobs at me and frantically pumps his fist, but then becomes upset when I offer him food. I am hoping he feels better soon and gets back to normal. I hear and read a lot of anecdotes where moms tell me that their babies weaned themselves at 5 months, 8 months, 10 months, etc: "I tried to nurse my baby one day and she just looked at me like, 'What on earth are you trying to do?'" But I don't believe that a baby under 12 months old would willingly try to wean himself. I have a feeling their baby wasn't feeling so hot and something was making nursing challenging. But then one of my friends said that I'll be laughing about this when I'm trying to wean him when he's 3. I sure hope so.


Post a Comment

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...