Trouble at the Pump

Whew, sorry for the long hiatus from the Bloggosphere! Our internet router has been broken and then we were out of town. We could get little snippets of my sister's connection next door, but it was tenuous at best and not conducive to good quality internet time. Finally Mario went and bought another router today at Best Buy and we are back in the game!

It's probably good that I've taken a break, because I think maybe Scarlett has been reading my blog, and has seen some of the negative comments I've posted about breastfeeding. No wait...that would imply that she actually CARED what I think! Either way, she's up to something, and that something is rejecting the breast. Since last Thursday, she's been a total turd when I've tried to feed her. She'll eat for a minute or so and then start arching and whining and trying to look in the other direction. Feedings that used to be 15 to 20 minutes are now no more than four if I'm lucky. At first, I thought it might just be gas, or some other kind of pain, or a brief phase. But it's getting close to a week now and things don't seem to be improving. I can only guess that this is because a) now that she's having formula and baby food she's decided these new tastes are superior to mom's milk, b) she's such a busybody she hates been made to lie down facing me, away from the action, or c) she's just plain contentious and she's sensed that even though I only originally committed to six months of this, I had recently decided it was too soon to stop.

I have heard of babies doing this...just up and deciding they are done with breastfeeding. Apparently my sister did it when she was eight months (my mom was pissed at her because it was right before summer and she was hoping to have big boobies for bikini season!) and one of Mario's cousin's babies that we saw this weekend was over it at six months. I called the doctor yesterday and they said there is really nothing I can do except start offering her a bottle when she won't eat. I knew that would be the end of it, so I was reluctant to accept that suggestion, but I finally did it tonight, because of course keeping her healthy and happy is the most important thing. The little twit arched and whined on the boob but then sucked two ounces of formula down, sweet as pie, and afterwards scarfed half a jar of butternut squash.

Granted, this is probably the control freak in me being bummed because I'm not the one making the choice here. But I have to admit, I'm a little sad. Unless something changes pretty quick here, this is going to be the end of the road for the Milk Cow. For all my talk about looking forward to weaning her, I had finally come around in the last couple of months to understanding what some women rave about when they talk about breastfeeding. It was sweet to feel that bond with her, to have her want me and only me when she's hungry or needs comfort. Even though it's a huge tie-down, it's also been time when I have been forced to take breaks from my hectic life and just sit down to enjoy her, to soak myself in her infanthood, to marvel at the baby-soft feeling of her scalp and wiggle her little toes and stroke the soft skin of her arms and legs and rub her little back while she looked up at me, sucking away so earnestly.

Sigh.