He Wants Milk

That is, by far, my most hated sentence from the past year. I hate those three words.

They were okay at the beginning, none of us knew what Elvis wanted at any given point so he wants milk was highly likely.

For a while, as he cut down his feeds to just the three and then two, now one, I stopped hearing those words. I stopped saying those words. But then, a few nigts ago, in the middle of the night, amidst baby screaming, hubby said it again: he wants milk.

I think one of my biggest fears regarding breastfeeding and Elvis was I did not want to be seen as just a source of milk, as just a pair of boobies. Perhaps my apprehension over those thoughts affected him, causing him to not become what I feared afterall I also feared he’d never want to wean and I’d have to stop him feeding, which hasn’t come to pass as of yet.

So, when I hear those three words, I hate it. I hate the thought that my baby is crying and only I can solve it with my magic boobies! There we were, Elvis screaming, hubby saying he wants milk and me needing to pee in the dark. And do you know what? He did not need milk.

He did need mummy, needed me, needed cuddles and, no, daddy wasn’t good enough on that occasion. Elvis did not want milk, did not want food, did not want a drink.  It was a nightmare that awoke him and not a need to feed, drink or comfort suck.

Why do people always jump to that conclusion? Why does my hubby?

~ P

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