Hi you guys…my throat is about to swell shut, but other than that, I’m good. I thought I was really going to come out of this flu season ON TOP, but today isn’t looking v. promising.
My compromised immune system may have something to do with the tragic turn of events that happened last Friday.
Puff refused the boob.
…and I cried…and I cried…and I cried.
For starters, I didn’t think it would happen so abruptly (and he is getting 3 top teeth, so the teething may have a lot to do with it)…It was also always our special time, and a fool-proof way for me to soothe him. So now, I’m left with an uncomfortable baby and without sticking the boob in his mouth, I don’t know what to do to calm him!
Initially I felt like an insecure parent who just brought their newborn home from the hospital.
And can we talk about how super creepy I feel chasing him around with my boob (that didn’t realllllly happen – okay maybe once or twice, but then I realized it may kill my chances of him ever coming back to the boob).
My plan is to play hard to get. He might want what he can’t have? LOL
So basically, I said goodbye to baby Puffy, and hello to big boy Puffy in a matter of seconds. You can only imagine my trauma. I guess this is a normal part of parenting, and I am so NOT into it. HB will need to send me away…and should we even have another baby, or will I not care as much with him/her?
I think the latter.
Okay, so back to the breastfeeding debacle. I am aware of nursing strikes, and all that jazz, but I also know that nobody can tell me what to with my Puff, which is why I avoid reading most shit (and advise you do, too). I just need to go with it right now, and see what happens…my trust lies in Little Mikey C. He is so wise. Just look at this face…
The paradox to this whole breastfeeding thing (for me at least) is that on the one hand, it’s your sweet, special time with the baby, they get that liquid gold, and you release all kinds of feel-good hormones (and burn millions of calories). On the other hand, your freedom is compromised, and if you pump to keep up supply for bottles, well there’s nothing sweet about pumping, it’s just fucking annoying.
The funny thing about ALL OF THIS, is that what Puff has gone ahead and done, was always MY plan…only he took initiative, I did not.
So the moral of the story is, follow your kid’s lead and adapt.
I have my work cut out for me.
I’m out suckas.
P.S:. I’m also closer to being able to get Botox. Should I do it?