we have bottle
After a rather ominous and lurching start last night, we all regrouped and babyQ has successfully had a bottle this evening. Mr.Q has fed babyQ.
Now, granted, I have to sit around with a glorified electric toilet plunger on the end of my boob for untallied minutes each day for the disappointing millilitres of milk that make this miracle possible, but it now opens up oh-so many options.
I could have a bath.
I could get my hair done.
I could get a pedicure.
I could [dare I say it?] sleep through the night. Okay, I doubt I could really sleep through the night, but I could stay in bed through the night. Or, at least, most of it.
Now, granted, I have to sit around with a glorified electric toilet plunger on the end of my boob for untallied minutes each day for the disappointing millilitres of milk that make this miracle possible, but it now opens up oh-so many options.
I could have a bath.
I could get my hair done.
I could get a pedicure.
I could [dare I say it?] sleep through the night. Okay, I doubt I could really sleep through the night, but I could stay in bed through the night. Or, at least, most of it.
posted by Jenn at
8:23 p.m.
2 Comments:
My wife used to have to go through that as the kids never latched on right. While she said she felt like a dairy cow when she was hooked up to it, she did enjoy the fact that she could wander away and leave me to feed the wee'uns.
heh heh, I love the description of the pump! Hilarious!
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