We are well into D’s third week on earth and I’ve changed my name to Daisy the cow.
He’s started focusing on people’s faces this week but I’m convinced all he sees when he looks at me is a giant nipple. The other half gets all the nice cuddles and is able to calm him in a nano second, whereas I just wind him up with the smell of my milk and obviously my heaving bosom. Obviously.
I know things will get easier the bigger he gets but I do just feel like a walking milk bottle with 2 extremely sore teats.
It’s so easy to become obsessed with doing the “right” thing by your child. We wanted to give him a dummy to calm him but I’d read that babies find it hard to tell the difference between that and a nipple and then struggle to latch on again. You know what? Turns out D isn’t stupid and knows how to suck a dummy, a bottle, his fist, the other half’s nose, my finger and the all important nipple. I wonder where the study was conducted. I won’t suggest anywhere through in case I upset any Americans. Whoops.
After seeing the contents of my lovely nephews nappy at the weekend I’m keen to breastfeed my little darling until he’s at least 40 and then I might be ready for him to fly the nest. Might.
Well I can hear him stirring in his Moses, which can only mean one thing. Yep it’s nipple time. Now pass me the lanolin cream….
Until we read again