Today was a bad day. K and I are both at the end of our tether. I can't think of any specific incidents that made it bad... we're just tired and stir crazy and missing each other.
The one point of my day when I felt at peace, calm, and in control was when I fed E her first bottle of milk. She looked up at me with her big blue eyes (and then her big pink eyelids as she fell asleep) and I relaxed; probably about as close to the "let-down" reflex that breastfeeding mothers get as I'll ever come.
There is, of course, a prerequisite to my being able to feed her; K has to spend some time with the pump to get the milk. I'm not sure how comforting that is. Though, perhaps, it's worth it to know that she can now, in the middle of the night, say "To hell with this. YOU get a bottle and feed her. I'm sleeping." Not that she would say that.
Right? She wouldn't, would she?
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