On her 4 week birthday, we decided we just couldn’t take the finger feeding anymore. We introduced the bottle. She’s been great with it and it certainly makes feeding easier and more relaxing for us. I think there are just as many dishes but at least they don’t need to be done as often and I can make more bottles ahead of time. I feel very guilty, but I want to throw in the towel on the breastfeeding (there, I – kinda – said it out loud). Unfortunately, after taking the bottle, she seems less interested in opening her mouth wide enough to latch on, and I have not gotten a successful latch on since starting with bottles (but haven’t tried enough either). I am going to continue to try, but it just feels like too much. I am ready to say – this is the plan – this is what’s working and this is what we’re going to do. I am ready to move forward, to accept. I think parenthood is all about guilt in one way, shape or form (I’m reading Imperfect Birds by Anne Lamott). Right now, I feel guilty about just about everything – I feel guilty that I can’t seem to get the breastfeeding (or it just isn’t get-able), I feel guilty that I don’t want to get up in the middle of the night, I feel guilty that Ryan is better at soothing my child than I am because he’s spent the last 4 weeks being the primary feeder, I feel guilty that when I am driving her around at 4am, I would rather be sleeping next to my husband. And then I see her beautiful little face, and I melt.
Inspiration . . .