Strike Day 6

Thane slept through the nite before, somehow or rather i kinda expected him to. Guess once i changed my mindset, everything seemed easier to bear.

Helper took over to keep an eye on him so i could get some extra shut eye in the morning. However i couldnt really sleep cos i could hear him squealing non stop outside. Finally got out of bed and found, to my surprise, that my happy little baby was back. Perhaps our misery rubbed off on each other the past few days and once i started to lighten up, his mood changed for the better too. When i saw that he was no longer moping around, my spirits were further lifted, and i felt that maybe the worst was really over.


In the afternoon, after Terelle went off to school, i shut ourselves inside my room again, turned on the worship cd and spent the next 3 hours skin to skin. Thane fell fast asleep on my chest and although i was wide awake, i didnt dare move until it was time to fetch Terelle. He continued to sleep for another half an hour after that, that made it a total of 3.5 hrs! He had never before napped for such a long time.


The afternoon and evening passed by quickly enough, with us feeding him milk by spoon as per normal.


After dinner, as i settled down to watch some tv (Dont forget the Lyrics, my current favourite reality show), i thought no harm trying to latch him. I expected him to push me away again as usual, but to my utmost surprise and delight, he began to nurse as if he never stopped.

I didnt dare to move an inch lest he unlatched himself. I think I didnt even dare to breathe deeply. I watched in amusement as he went through his usual routine of scratching his head with his free hand and slowly drifted off to sleep. And i just sat there holding his hand and stroking his head for the next 1.5 hrs, with him asleep at my breast, only finally getting up and putting him down when my bladder was about to burst.

I don't know if he will go on strike again. But I am thankful that we had this particular nursing experience so I could savor every second of it. At least if that was the last nursing session, it will stay in my heart and soul forever.

Thanks to all my friends (you know who you are), and even other mums who just chanced on my blog, for being so supportive and comforting to me during this confusing, emotional time. What you did for me just confirms that mother-to-mother support is so very important to a nursing mother. I will always remember this episode for the rest of my life.

And to any other mums who is as unfortunate as me to have to go through this, take heart. The strike will pass..all u need is alot of patience and determination. And if you feel like its the end of the world, just get in touch with me, ill lend you my shoulder to cry on.

Strike Day 5

Hubby was at home again today, cos we need to go sign some documents for our new flat. The morning passed by as usual, with us spoon feeding Thane his milk and water. I have increased his meals to 3 times a day now, adding cereal for breakfast because in the past he used to latch in the morning.


When Terelle went off to school, we took Thane along with us to the document signing session. I still didnt want to leave him alone. In the car, i had almost succeeded in getting him near the breast when my fone rang. (It was my dad, he has an uncanny knack of calling me at the most inopportune time. Sigh...)

Thane got startled and started to cry and pull away. At the height of his hysterics, hubby suggested we turn back and leave him at home. I refused and tried my best to comfort him, all the while trying not to burst into tears again.


He finally slept on my shoulder. Thank God we didnt turn back! During lunch, i spoonfed him some milk again. He took it with minimal fuss. I put him in the sling and carried him around for the rest of the day. My shoulders ached from his weight but i was determined for him to spend as much time close to me as possible.


Thane had his porridge outside and was an angel throughout the signing and the meeting with the lawyer. He slept on my shoulder during the meeting and didnt wake until 3 hours later, by then we had already reached home.


I was worried that he was getting dehydrated as he seemed lethargic to me. Hubby cheerfully remarked that previously i worried when he didnt sleep, now that he was napping for a longer stretch why was i worrying again?


Fed him another bowl of milk when he awoke and gave him a new sippy cup to try. We had just bought that cup in the afternoon as i wanted to try everything in a bid for him to drink more milk.


I was dreading bedtime again but surprisingly, i neednt have worried. After turning on the cd, i sang "There is none like You" just once to him and he fell fast asleep on my shoulder with nary a fuss. I was elated. My spirits lifted and i felt so much more hopeful that i have felt in days. I think God is trying to tell me that we can get through this.


Hubby just came in and commented that it is funny how God works. We have been trying to get Thane to sleep on his own and complaining so much about how he wakes up countless times throughout the night. Whenever he cried and needed to nurse in the middle of the night, Hubby used to carry him to me and sleep at the foot of the bed while i nursed him. As soon as he fell asleep again, i would kick hubby awake and he would gingerly carry him back to his cot, hardly daring to breathe in case he woke up again. Before hubby left on his biz trip, we were actually saying that as soon as he came back, we were going to let him go cold turkey and cry himself to sleep.


We have realised that we should be careful about what we wish for, it really might just come true but not in the way that we expect. Yes he has gone cold turkey, but he has done it on his own terms. We didnt have any choice in the matter. And perhaps it is a good time that he is finally teaching himself to sleep on his own and not use me as a pacifier.


I am going to sleep now. As i am writing this, Thane is still fast asleep and i am convinced that he will sleep through the night agian.


We shall see. I live to fight another day tomorrow. I am encouraged and i have faith that i can get through this.

So help me God.

Strike Day 4

730am: Thane was awake and wailing his lungs out. I hurriedly carried him outside as Terelle was stirring. I didnt want her to wake so early as she would be tired and cranky by the time she had to go to school.

Hubby had to rush off to work and i quickly warmed up some milk for my helper to feed Thane. At that moment, Terelle walked into the living room. My heart sank...i couldnt face the prospect of entertaining her till the time she had to go to school and deal with Thane at the same time.


I begged her to go back to the room and sleep some more. She refused. I started to cry and begged her again to go to the room. She started to cry too. Hubby saw the drama unfolding and let out a sigh of despair.

In the end, with tears streaming down my face, i carried Terelle back to the room and set her down on the bed. I asked her if she wanted some milk and she said yes. After she finished her milk, i laid beside her and she quietly told me "Mummy dont be sad, ill sleep some more ok?"

With that, she started to smell her beloved blankie and closed her eyes.

I started to cry again. I could hardly believe that my little girl was so matured about this. She could actually empatise with what i was going through and didnt want to add to my misery. I thanked God for my little blessing.

Just before Terelle left for school, Thane smacked an entire bowl of milk onto the floor in his rage at being spoon fed. I was devastated as i watched my precious milk spilt on the floor instead of ending up in his tummy and yet i was helpless to do anything about it.

It was comforting to have hubby home yesterday but i knew i had to get through the days myself from now on. When Terelle went off to school, i took Thane into the room, closed the door, turned on the worship cd again and spent the next hour skin to skin with him. It worked, and he lay contentedly on my chest, listening to the music with his eyes wide open and he didnt cry one bit.

Encouraged, i tried offering him the breast again when the entired cd finished playing. Sadly, he started to push me away again. Dejected and thoroughly discouraged, i started to cry again. Inwardly i was telling myself, perhaps i was being too impatient. Perhaps i should give him more time.

While Terelle was napping, I spent more skin to skin time with Thane with the same music playing in the background. He fell asleep on my chest and i put him down next to Terelle and fell asleep myself.

When i awoke, hubby was home with a dozen donuts to cheer me up. Only he understood me best and knew that i needed food, sweet ones at that, to keep my spirits up. I had already gone through 2 packets of chocolates that day. I thanked God again for my other blessing in my life.

After dinner, hubby took out his guitar and song book and we spent the next hour singing some of our favourite worship songs. Terelle even tried to mimic Daddy by strumming her toy guitar with one of his picks. Thane sat in my lap and quietly observed us. He seemed strangely calm and didnt move much as he listened to our singing.

When it came to bedtime, Thane fell asleep in hubby's arms again, all the while listening to the cd. However, Terelle was talking rather loudly and woke him up an hour later and he started bawling again. I quickly started to heat up some milk for him but when i returned to the room, hubby had already put him down on the bed and he was fast asleep.

My tears started to flow again as i clutched that precious bowl of undrunk milk. My supply had been greatly affected by the events of the past few days and my breasts were sore from being unaccustomed to the harsh pumping action of the pump, so every drop that i managed to squeeze out was so precious. And there was this entire bowl of milk that wasnt going to go into Thane's system! I just couldnt bear the thought of that.

Hubby sat on the floor beside me and told me to let go and let God. He said that maybe if i finally could stop blaming myself and let go, my supply would return and God would make things right. Deep down in my heart i knew he was right, it was really up to me to stop trying to control everything. I washed my face and went to bed.

To my utmost surprise, Thane slept through the night.

When i groggily reached for my clock in the morning, i half expected it to be 3am. It was actually already 730am and he was still fast alseep. I was so happy i couldnt go back to sleep myself.

Strike day 3

Hubby took leave today to lend me support and help out at home. He helps me prepare Terelle for school as i struggle with trying to feed Thane via cup, bottle and spoon.
I realised that spoon is the best bet as most of the milk gets in that way. He simply detests the bottle and with the cup, most of the milk dribbles down his chin. I try to get him to latch intermittently without success; he continues to push me away, crying unhappily.

1230pm: Terelle goes off to school. Hubby suggests we go out for a nice lunch but i cant bear to leave Thane alone at home.

In the end, we bring him downstairs to the coffee shop for a walk and to get some groceries. I can hardly stomach any food. As i miserably pick at my hokkein mee, Thane stares ahead forlornly. He seems to have lost his spirit too. Is my misery rubbing off on him or vice versa? Either way we are both miserable.

Throughout the afternoon, I kept replaying in my mind what happened on Friday night. I kept wishing I had known Thane was going to go on strike. I would have treasured every moment of our last nursing session. I would have smelled his soft hair, kissed his forehead and nuzzled his little fist, and look on with amusement at how he liked to scratch his head with his free hand, until he fell fast asleep. I would have treasured every second of our special time together and not take it for granted by reading or watching tv.

That afternoon i cried each time he cried. At one point, he was just sitting quietly in my lap and staring sullenly in front of him. It seemed as if his spirit was broken. With tears streaming down my face, i told hubby i couldnt take any more of this.

Terelle was trying to nap when she saw me crying. She quietly gave me a hug and said "Dont cry Mummy, I love you." I could hardly believe my ears. Here was my 3 year old baby actually comforting me!
My little girl has really grown up. I picked her up and hugged her. I asked her why baby keeps refusing to drink mummy's milk. Her innocent reply was "Baby dont want to drink milk becos he wants to go to school with me."

Smiling through my tears, i marvelled at how matured she could be one moment and just a kid again the next.

We brought Thane to see the pd in the evening, just to get him checked out and make sure there was nothing physically wrong with him. The pd gave him a clean bill of health and told me that he has a strong character to be able to protest so vehemently at 9mths.

When i told her i was not ready to wean, she looked me in the eye and said that it was not up to me anymore. Now it was really up to Thane, if and when he decides to forgive and forget, and start to nurse again.

I was crestfallen at her declaration. I was all ready to nurse him well into his toddler years. I didnt want the hassle of bottles and spoonfeeding. If only he would return to nursing, i wouldnt even mind getting up 5 times a night to nurse him again. Why did i complain so much when he was nursing through the night? What i wouldnt give to go back to those days. But it wasnt about what i wanted anymore, was it?

At night, after all the bedtime rituals, the four of us trooped into our room. As i turned on the cd player, songs of worship started to fill the room. Hubby remarked that he suddenly felt like listening to this particular cd. Surprisingly Thane fell asleep in his arms with much less fuss compared to the previous few nights.

As the four of us lay on our bed listening to the cd, the song "There is none like You" begain to play. Hubby started singing and when he came to the line "suffering children are safe in Your arms", i felt peace for the first time in days. God was comforting me and i told myself to hold that line close to my heart.

Thane woke up again in the middle of the night and we went through the motion of feeding and comforting again, all the while with the cd playing in the background.

He woke up only once this time.

Strike Day 2

11pm: True enough, when it came to bedtime and Thane needed to nurse to sleep again, he started his hysterical screaming. Tried to get him to latch again but he wailed even louder. After rocking, bouncing, cradling, singing, walking around he finally slept, shuddering every few minutes, the after effects of his frenzied crying session.


2am: He wakes up crying again. I warm up a small container of expressed breast milk and painstakingly feed it to him by spoon, all the while carrying him with the other hand. He laps a few spoonfuls up eagerly only to start crying and struggling again. I doggedly continue to feed him every single drop, despite his apparent misery every few minutes.


315am: He falls asleep after crying his heart out again. My dad actually suggests that i bring him to the pd tomorrow to ask if it is time to wean. I almost explode with fury and exasperation.


5am: Same thing happens. Cry, warm milk, feed with one hand with him protesting between spoonfuls. I keep sms-ing hubby for encouragement. He replies and tries to keep my spirits up, despite it being 5am too over in Shanghai.
Hubby says he has a phobia of travelling now, cos everytime he travels, something will go wrong at home. Its always the kids who suffer!! Once when he travelled, Terelle landed in hospital and now this?! How i wish it were me who was aflicted with all these suffering...why does it have to be the kids??


6am: Thane falls asleep and i gratefully sink into bed.


830am: I wake up and groggily stagger out of bed only to realise my parents have taken Thane out for breakfast. Thankful, i go back to sleep with Terelle who miraculously, has slept through the entire din the night before.


10am: Thane returns asleep in my helper's arms. She puts him down in his cot and he wakes barely 15min later crying miserably again. No luck with latching again, we try to feed him some milk in a bottle. He tries to bat it away in despair, crying and gagging at the same time. Takes almost 30min to finish just 100ml of milk.
I am worried as most of the time his diapers are barely filled when they used to be so full they would leak from time to time. Is he dehydrated??


12 noon: Supposed to bring Terelle to a good friend's son's party but am so tired i cant bring myself to dress up, drag myself out and handle her outside. i knew i would be worried about Thane at home too, so decided to skip the party.


Afternoon passes by in the same manner, the only thought that kept me going was that hubby would be returning that night. I needed him to be around, to tell me that it was not my fault and that everything would be alright again. And with him around, if i needed to cry i could cry in peace. I did not need to keep up with appearances as i did with my parents around.


Headed off to the airport to fetch hubby in the evening. Thane started fussing after dinner. Tried to nurse him in the car, but to no avail. He used to love nursing in the car, the rocking motion slowly easing him to sleep. My heart twisted at the memory.


1130pm: The entire household is asleep. Thane wakes and cries inconsolably. Hubby has his first taste of the mayhem. I break down and sob my heart out as he tries to carry Thane and calm him down. Finally succeeds after about an hour.

Hubby repeatedly tells me that i couldnt have forseen that Thane would have such a reaction after the flicking incident and that i should look ahead and not dwell on the past. But i cant..i just cant...everytime i see how miserable he is, i feel like beating myself up.


3am: Thane wakes and we both scramble to feed him a bowl of milk again. Same reaction, feed cry feed cry....cry until spent, fall asleep wimpering. By now my heart is in a million pieces.

Strike Day 1

1130pm: Trying to nurse Thane to sleep as usual. Brought the kids out on a cable car ride to Sentosa and then to watch the "Song of the Sea" today so am particularly bushed. Hoping that he would fall asleep quickly so that i can crash too, and not looking forward to him getting up at least 3 times to nurse during the nite again.


1138pm: Thane bites me hard and i flick his mouth, chiding him at the same time. He furrows his brow, gives me a bewildered and hurt look, arches his back away from me and starts to howl. I quickly carry him out of the room for fear of waking Terelle up. (On hindsight, shouldnt have bothered...she can sleep through an earthquake)


1230am: He is still crying and screaming. My mum tries to pacify him and it works for a few minutes. I keep trying to offer the breast and he does turn his face towards it. Then he seems to remember that he was flicked and turns away yelling with renewed fervour.


145am: He is still crying and wimpering pitifully. I sms hubby who is away and tell him how desperate i am. Hubby is awoken from his sleep and dismisses me as he thinks it is not a serious issue. But i am scared and desperate cos deep down i know that something is not right. The worm has turned and i dont think that anything i do will make it turn back.


215am: He has finally cried himself to sleep. Exhausted i climb into bed beside him and fall into a fitful sleep.


330am: He is up and wailing again! I offer the breast again and the same thing happens. He turns towards it then remembers how i hurt him and turns away crying woefully. My heart breaks...

All this while my mum is grumbling that i am making her precious grandson suffer and that it is not good for babies to cry so much and that he will get a fever and fits the next day and keeps suggesting that i give him formula as she is convinced that he is hungry.
I tell her that i think he is on a nursing strike and she scoffs at my resolve to breastfeed, claiming that my sister and i are both fine and dandy now and we were both not breastfed.
I am utterly frustrated and try to shut out all her unwanted advice.


445am: He cried until he was exhausted and has fallen asleep. I am exhausted too and miserable. Why is he rejecting me? I feel that it is my fault for flicking him.


620am: He wakes and i jump at the chance to offer him the breast. He takes it!! I am overjoyed, thinking that everything has gone back to normal. I do not dare move and we both fall asleep, me upright and him cradled in my arms.


830am: Thane wakes as per normal and my mum and helper take him outside to play with him while i get some extra shut eye.


1030am: I wake and my helper tells me she thinks he's hungry and sleepy at the same time. I fumble with my bra's nursing clasp and try to undo it quickly. Alas it is not quick enough for my impatient boy and he starts to howl in anger and twists out of my arms again. When i finally get it undone he refuses to latch again. He screams and cries for a good hour before falling into an exhausted stupor again.


The next couple of hours are a blur of intermittent crying, offering the breast, his refusal and pushing me away, more crying, then falling asleep only to wake in a short while and repeating the whole process.


By nightfall i am totally spent and utterly miserable. I havent had a bite of lunch and have no appetite for dinner. However my parents are around and i make a half hearted attempt at dragging myself downstairs for some food. I bring Thane along as i cant bear to leave him at home with my helper.


745pm: My parents and Terelle are tucking into a sumptous bak kut teh dinner while i stare at my food with Thane sitting in my lap. He is looking around impassively, totally unlike my busybody little boy just a couple of days ago. Every few minutes he will cry out and bury his face into my neck. My dad quickly finishes his dinner and carries him away to look at some children racing cars nearby, in a bid to cheer him up. I half heartedly swallow a few morsels of food.


After all the bedtime routines for both kids, my heart sinks further. I knew that it was going to be another long night.
I was right, the night was longer that it has ever been.

Maternal instinct

I am not maternal, never have been.

B.C (before children), i was never the kind to go ooh and aah over babies. Even when an impossibly cute specimen was hanging over my shoulder in the train, all i could manage was a smile or a polite pat on its hand, even while i knew that the mum was dying for me to ask some personal questions about her offspring just so that she could ply me with its latest anecdotes. No thanks, i would rather be listening to my music and escaping into my book.

Whenever i had to entertain a kid for more than a couple of minutes, my lame antics and silly noises would always be met with impassive, stony faces that conveyed the message that i was the greatest joke on earth. And i would be seriously wishing my friend/relative i.e the grimy kids' mum would quickly return or that the ground would swallow me up to save me from further embarassment.

And crying kids? They either gave me a headache or rendered me useless, and as such i avoided them like the plague.

While i was pregnant, i never felt that i was radiating femininity. While my friends waxed lyrical about how wonderful it felt and how miraculous it was to have a little being move inside you, all i felt were the longest 18months (2 pregnancies) of my life and i disliked the ungainly bump in front of me and the constraints it put on my active lifestyle.

6 years of marriage and 2 kids later, i am still learning how to be a mother. There are days i do give myself a pat on the back and there are days i wish i could kick myself. But through it all, there is one thing that i feel i have finally done well in - and that is breastfeeding Thane.

We battled countless problems together in the early days; latching issues, mastitis (3times), bleeding nipples, engorgement and yet we managed to overcome all of them. He has been a happy nurser for the past 9 months only to stop abruptly 4 nites ago cos i flicked his cheek in response to him biting hard.
This is not the first time ive done so as he has been biting pretty often enough, but this was the first time he looked at me with such hurt and betrayal in his eyes as he stopped nursing immediately, arched his back and pushed himself vehemently away from me.

Nursing strike - 2 cold clinical words that describe a baby's abrupt refusal to nurse.

Each time Thane draws away from me screaming his lungs out, I feel bereft; as if i am mourning the leaving of a loved one, as if im mourning my hold on mothering my baby. Mothering through breastfeeding is the only thing i know i am doing completely right and that nobody could fault, and if i cant nurse i feel useless, helpless, miserable and worst of all defeated.

I never thought i would finally come face to face with my maternal instincts in this manner. Yet through this nursing strike - these 2 simple, self explaining words have since shaken my entire life and soul and has made me feel like its the end of the world.

I have been trawling the net for information on how to deal with nursing strikes and have been trying to find success stories of mothers who have coaxed their babies back to the breast after a strike.

But all I have found are very factual advices about how to cope with nursing strikes (how do u spend skin to skin time when your baby keeps pushing himself away from you and crying himself hoarse??) but very few success stories about mothers who have actually survived a nursing strike and come out triumphant on the other side.

There is especially, a lack of stories about mums who reacted strongly when her child bit her, had the child gone on strike and emerged better off for it.

And so i shall chronicle Thane's nursing strike, firstly to remember these emotional days and also to provide hope and comfort to any other mum who would be as unfortunate as me to encounter this in her breastfeeding journey.

Maternal instinct? Guess i do have a smidgeon of it after all. But i wish i didnt have to realise it through this episode...