The Bottle Feeding Gene

I seem to breed children who are either extremely conniving or just plain deficient when it comes to bottle-feeding. Maybe they are both lacking in the bottle-sucking-ability gene? Or, maybe Toby has been secretly passing on his bottle-aversion tips to his sister...who knows?

Toby happily took a bottle until the ripe old age of 6 weeks when he suddenly realized it was NOT the breast and not NEARLY as nice as the breast and embarked on a complete bottle hiatus that lasted long past the time that I went back to work. I spent those 4.5 months with immense guilt over the fact that I was going to go back to work and potentially STARVE my poor bottle-disabled child. I ordered so many nipples online I could start my own store. Finally, with the help of good friends, sippy cups, solid food, and a very dedicated husband, I eased myself back into work and Toby and (and father) managed to survive without me.

It wasn’t until he was 11 months old that, at a moment of weakness, Toby let it slip that he actually DID know how to take a bottle. Still in the ICU of Sick Kids hospital, he had just been extubated and withdrawing from his week-long morphine infusion when the nurse gave him a bottle -- the first bit of sustenance he’d had been offered in over a week. Forgetting his political stance on bottles, he sucked it back happily.

BUSTED.

Needless to say, I have a little less empathy this time. Trying to avoid this problem with Mia, we started her on a bottle even earlier, before she hit the 2 week old mark, once we knew breastfeeding was going well. She took one look at the bottle and innocently and loudly revolted, pretending to have NO IDEA what to do with it while simultaneously keeping up the pretence that I was trying to starve her to death.

It was a familiar scene that instantly took me back and sucked all optimism out of me, replacing it with the impending dread of another 5 months of a three hour leash.

I quickly came to my senses and gave myself a pep talk. This child was TEN DAYS OLD. What did SHE know? Perseverance was going to work on this equally-bottle-sucking-challenged child. Every day I pumped and lovingly coaxed her into taking the bottle. Eventually she took it, but only after being first allowed to breast feed and then with me sneakily and quickly replacing the nipple with the bottle. After a week of this even Rob had success but he, too, had to pretend to feed her on the nipple first before sneaking the bottle into her mouth. (Don’t ask…)

Last night, for the first time in 7 weeks, I left Mia for a heart wrenching hour and a half to go and play hockey. It was completely indulgent and felt both thrilling and terrifying at the same time. I left Rob with a bottle, a soother, a swaddle blanket, a sleeping toddler and about 100 hugs and kisses before guiltily skulking off.

I am pleased to report that all 3 of us survived the ordeal. After complaining loudly to her Daddy for a full 7 minutes it was time to try the bottle. She managed to take all 3 ounces but came off to burp every ½ ounce and then needed a full 5-10 minutes of gaping mouth flailing “OMG I don’t know what I’m doing! I don’t know how this works!” to remember how to suck again EACH TIME. Once again - - Master-manipulator or complete idiot? Who knows?

By the end of the night we were ALL exhausted for very different reasons.

The bottle taking isn’t perfect, but we haven’t lost the battle yet. And maybe, just MAYBE we’ve learned something from Toby after all…