Last night we attempted to put the baby to bed a little earlier than usual. I nursed her in our bedroom, and after an hour she still wasn't asleep but our dinner was ready. Since she seemed to be pretty subdued at that point, we thought we'd try putting her down in her bassinet and seeing what would happen.
We went downstairs and started to eat dinner. No noise from the monitor. After about 15 minutes, we started to hear some fussing, which eventually turned into crying. We gave it a few minutes, then J went up to see what was up. Next thing I hear is J yelling "she puked in her eye!". I went up to investigate and walked in on a scene straight out of "The Exorcist" (minus the head spinning and the demonic possession, that is). Poor girl had blown chunks all over her bassinet. Maybe she wasn't happy with all that Easter chocolate I ate?
This morning she was still having some spit-up issues. Here's where I almost lost it: she'd fallen asleep in my arms so I set her down in her boppy pillow on the couch next to me, and started to "milk myself". (That's how our aunt's boyfriend refers to pumping breast milk. He's real sophisticated, that one). Of course, that's when Maia woke up and started to cry. So, there I am, left boob hanging out and attached to the electric pump, and I pick up the baby with my free hand and try to console her by putting her up to my shoulder and patting her. Next thing I know she's spitting up all over my shirt and on her own face. It took me a minute to find a free hand to clean up the mess. I guess she got angry that the machine was getting her milk. Wonder if she noticed that the machine does not spew the milk back at me?
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3 comments:
Learn from the machine, little one. Learn from the machine. It always empties the boob so mommy doesn't walk around in agony for the next three hours. It never blows raspberries on the boob. It never gums the boob as it pops off to look around. The machine is our friend.
The machine doesn't poop and/or fart loudly while it's on the boob.
However, the machine also doesn't make cute satisfied groans and look up at you lovingly either...so I guess they're even.
Oh I am SO glad those days are over! You know, we were so poor when I had Noelle that I hand-pumped my milk into an oversized pitcher. That is no lie. We couldn't afford no fancy milkin' machine! Did it by hand. God I'm glad those days are over. :)
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