Monday, September 17, 2007

Fiona, meet the bottle. Bottle, meet Fiona

We officially introduced Fiona to a bottle this weekend. She had eaten from a bottle once before when I had to leave her for more than two hours when she was only five days old and I had a doctor appointment. But it was a last resort kind of thing - we'd hoped she'd hold out and not need to eat while I was gone since it was very early in the breastfeeding process.

But once she hit four weeks last Friday, and breastfeeding has been well established (along with my milk supply), it seemed like the right time to let M participate in feeding our daughter. Not to mention give my poor nipples a break from time to time. I had pumped a good 3.5 ounces earlier in the day, so as we settled in for the evening and hoped for a peaceful night, M prepared a bottle and sat down to feed Fiona for the first time. Little piggie took right to it, caring nothing for the different nipple.

I expected to feel a kind of relief as I got a much needed break from the frequent feedings Fiona demands. I was surprised when I felt overwhelming jealousy. Not so much of my husband, since I'm eager for him to experience every part of caring for our kid. It was the bottle I resented. The bottle that was holding milk I had made. And the lowlife, incompetent nipple delivering that milk to my daughter just pissed me off. I kept wanting to snatch Fiona from her father and that horrible bottle and put her to my breast where she belonged. As it turned out, I got my chance anyway when the 3.5 ounces wasn't enough for her. Hooray!

This was clearly a reaction brought on by some hormonal imbalance due to childbirth. Either that or I'm just a major freak. I'm leaning toward the latter. I've been complaining about sore nipples and excessive responsibility for several days now. You'd think I'd be over the moon to share the task of feeding her. But when it comes down to it, feeding her is really the only thing that, up to this point, has belonged to just her and me. And for the most part it still does. After all, I'm the one home with her all day, every day. And we don't give her formula, so I'm still the one making all her food. No doubt, this too shall pass. In the meantime, however, I'll be shooting evil looks at the bottle and fake nipple. Clearly, they're trying to come between me and my daughter.

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