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.