Hittin' the bottle

This is how the Grant household feels about bottles.  ALL of us.

When Noah was about 5 weeks old we gave him a bottle for the first time.  He took it like a champ, and I was so thankful that was not a battle we were going to have to fight.  I had heard of breastfed babies who would refuse the bottle, and I was thanking the good Lord that mine was not one of them!  I wanted to be able to leave Noah for longer than 2 hours at any given time and not worry about the poor guy going hungry, not to mention for Noah to have a means to eat if (God forbid) something were to happen to me and I could not nurse Noah.  Because he took it so easily, we didn't worry about giving him a bottle very frequently to "retain the skill".  He took the bottle when we left him with the grandparents, and that was that!

Then, one beautiful Sunday afternoon surrounded by friends and family at a birthday lunch, Noah suddenly decided the bottle was his worst enemy.  He didn't just close his mouth and refuse to take the nipple.  He screamed, squirmed, and thrashed to get away from that thing.  He wanted nothing to do with it!  We tried different bottles, different nipples, different temperatures, different positions, different people... nothing.  The only way the kid would take the bottle was when he got so tired from screaming that he was too exhausted to realize it wasn't the real thing.  At first I thought it may have been an isolated ordeal, but it continued.  Out of about 10 bottles, he only took one of them without a fight (Gayle, I still don't get it!).  Not only does this mean that Noah cried and screamed for hours on end, it also means that my precious liquid gold (pumped breast milk) went down the drain.  I am not sure which i\was worse. I am pretty sure I had a few meltdowns, believing I was going to be breastfeeding my son until he went to college (eww!).

I have always felt so sorry for mothers who struggled with breastfeeding.  I have heard horror storries of nights filled with tears (from momma, daddy, and baby) because the baby had trouble latching on.  Then, when they decided to use the bottle for the first time, it was like the heavens opened up and shined down on earth.  The bottle then became their saving grace.  Oh, how I envy these mommas now!  Don't get me wrong... I love nursing.  It is such a sweet bond I share with my son, and allows us to have sweet alone time together every few hours forcing us to sit down, be still, and just love on eachother.  It is convenient (instant meal) and so benefitial for Noah.  I love knowing that I am the only one who can meet a specific need for Noah.  All of that being said, I would also love to know that he isn't going to starve and whither away if I wasn't around.

So this week, we started the longest week of my life.  We are torturing giving Noah a bottle every night for the next week.  At that point, we are going to reevaluate and see if we need to do another week, or if he has given up his protest and taken to the bottle.  So, around 7:30 every night, please drop to your knees and pray. Pray hard!



XOXO,
~The Grant Gang