The Spendthrift's Progress

Daycare, Day One: The Hunger Strike

My first day at work, while slow and long, was pretty good. I settled in, luxuriated in the company of adults, caught up on Blogging Baby enough to discover that the girl made photo of the day, and finally got into a good groove with the breast pump.

The girl's first day at daycare, however, was not so good.

I had two main fears about the girl's first day in daycare. Fortunately, they were at such opposite ends of possibility that there simply wasn't a worst case scenario in which both could occur at the same time.

This, I am telling myself, is the silver lining.

The first fear was that the girl would like it so much, she wouldn't want to come home.

The second fear was that she wouldn't eat.

As you might be able to tell by the title, she chose anxiety door number two.

Were I less alarmed by the listless, sad baby I was met with at the end of my day, I'd be in awe of her stubborn refusal to take milk from anything other than the breast. She wouldn't take it in a bottle. She wouldn't take it in a cup. She would not take it on a spoon. She would not take it on the moon. She would not take it mixed with rice, for milk sans boobie isn't nice.

Three bottles of milk went down the drain instead of down her throat.

I think those three bottles involved five separate pumping sessions. The mind boggles and the mama weeps. I mean, FIVE hellish pumping sessions for naught but the sewer.

Twenty minutes of nursing and a cuddle later, and my wilting little flower perked right up and was her usual chipper self, so I think if we can get past the part where she's not eating, she'll get to work on maternal anxiety the first.

Tonight, we try the Nuby.

Please please please let it be a miracle.

posted by mohmlet @ 7:47 PM