Boob and Bottle

RB took a bottle of expressed milk. We’re frickin delighted. We tried after a few weeks of mostly good breastfeeding for fear of leaving it too late and him being inseparable from my boobs til real food is on his menu. 

If it stays this way I can have freedom, though watching the first feed was bittersweet. I felt huge pride in seeing my husband feed our child, was full of warmth at seeing them bond over food – one nurturing, the other being nurtured – but I felt suddenly redundant. My boobs longed to be feeding him, not watching this plastic bottle take their job. It was entirely irrational. I’m still feeding him a million times a day. The bottle only comes in once.

We’re trying one bottle feed a day. Yesterday’s was least successful, he didn’t finish it, but the poor boy had it with Infacol straight from the fridge (we’ve been told that cold milk makes for an easier life), both for the first time. We may have been expecting too much…

However, we underestimated how much he drinks. I’ve started expressing, and will do it each day. 100ml (roughly what I’ve expressed in a sitting) didn’t touch his sides and he topped himself up on my boob.

At this rate, formula will be joining the gang. I’m away for three days when he’s three months. Given he feeds for 56 mins of every hour at the moment (please God be a temporary growth spurt) I’d have to ask a local dairy farmer to hook me up to their machines to get anywhere near enough to keep his hunger tears at bay.

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