Bottles Up

In her three weeks of life, I have fed Nora well over one hundred times. With the exception of a cup feeding or two that the nurses gave Nora the night I spiked a fever in the hospital, I have been responsible for every meal that Nora has ever had.

Until tonight.

Tonight, Nora had her first bottle.

I always knew that giving Nora a bottle was going to be a necessity--I have to go back to work eventually, and she will be in daycare. Not only that, but I'm going to be away from her at some point in her infancy, right? ;) Even so, I hadn't given the introduction of the bottle much thought until a few days ago. I started asking around and doing some reading, and as it turns out, it sounds like 3-4 weeks old is the ideal time for introducing a bottle to a baby. And actually, it works out pretty perfectly since it would be really nice for Nora to be able to take a bottle on my brother's wedding day, when she'll be with my in-laws for a little bit--and the wedding is in two weeks!

On Thursday, I started preparing. I pulled bottles out of their boxes and sterilized them. I started reading about the best way to give the first bottle--let daddy do it, mommy should leave the room, start with two ounces, etc.

I'm not going to lie: I've been dreading it a little bit. Although I was excited for Michael to have the chance to feed her, and there is a certain level of freedom that returns with her taking a bottle, I just felt SAD about it. There is part of me that has really enjoyed the fact that I've been the only one who can feed her.

I really love breastfeeding; it's my time with her. I love looking down at her while she feeds, watching her hungry little lips and her droopy little eyelids, knowing that she is as comfortable and secure as she could possibly feel. Thankfully, though, that's not going to go away. I'll continue to breastfeed for most of her feedings, but Michael will now get to participate, too, as he'll be giving her a bottle every evening. But we had to start with that very first bottle, and well...

...Today was the day.

I pumped three ounces this morning and prepared a two-ounce bottle for her. When we got home this evening and she began to act hungry, I warmed it up, and I handed it over. And the little one went to town.

She really, REALLY went to town.

Nora polished off the two ounces in just a few minutes. She didn't even seem to mind that 1) I never left the room, 2) the milk was still a bit cool from the refrigerator and, 3) you know, THAT IT WAS COMING OUT OF A PIECE OF PLASTIC. So I warmed up the third ounce, and she chugged that like it was her job. The whole three ounces--GONE before I even knew it.

If only I could pump it that quickly. Damn.