Boy Oh Boyers

Thanks to the great milking machine, Rowan was able to enjoy his first bottle of pumped breastmilk last evening around 8pm. The delicious meal was served warm and gently swirled by his loving father. Rowan was hesitant at first, probably thinking the bottle nipple was just a pacifier. He let his protest be known, since he was in no mood for fruitless sucking. But apparently Tom was able to convince him with a couple of drops of milk from the bottle, and Rowan took to it straight away. I watched through the cracked door since our pediatrician suggested it would be easier if I were not in Rowan's sight, or earshot, while he tried the bottle for the first time (less confusion, she suggested). Well, confusion wasn't really an issue. He drank a full three ounces of the milk. In fact, the only confusion surrounding the whole thing was us, Rowan's fearless parents, trying to figure out how to use the darned bottle warmer! Sheesh.

It took some emotional preparation for me to fill a bottle and hand it over to Tom to do the feeding. Even though I am eager to have a little flexibility (especially in the middle of the night) for someone else to do a feeding, I couldn't help feeling I was somehow betraying the trust Rowan has put in me as his source of nourishment. I'm glad we got over the hurdle of the first bottle, and I'm especially glad that the subsequent feeding was not accompanied by any protests (apparently this can happen since a bottle is easier to drink from, so some babies after getting a bottle are not too happy at the breast for a while). Rowan didn't have any such difficulty, so tonight Dad will be doing a midnight feeding! Oh, sweet sleep. Sweet, sweet sleep.