Get a Life

In an ever so kind way, my dad has been telling me to get a life. He says that I need friends, and I say "I know." He says Eric and I should go out sans Charlotte on dates, and I say "I know." But, Charlotte is still nursing, and I'm horrible at pumping milk. I've been encouraged by a few people to try formula, and I thought it would be ok on the very rare occasion that Charlotte and I are separated. My doctor in the Bronx seemed to think that would be ok too, but I still didn't really want to try it. Nearly one month after the go ahead from my doctor, we decided to try it.

Last night we prepared a bottle of milk, warmed it up, and tried to feed it to her. She didn't like it (which was very expected), but she had a few drops from the bottle. Then, she started crying this pitiful, cute cry, and I broke down and nursed her. She was content breastfeeding and was making cooing sounds while she ate. Then, she finished and looked up at me and I was in shock. She had broken out in hives around her mouth! It was very alarming for us, and I felt extremely guilty for trying to give her formula. I didn't even want to think what would have happened had she finished the entire bottle. I would have called the doctor, but she didn't seem to be bothered by the hives, and they got better relatively quickly. In fact, there are no signs today that anything happened last night.

So, I guess Charlotte is allergic to something in the formula, which means I will happily continue to solely breastfeed her. I have a life - Charlotte is my life right now, which as I see it is pretty awesome. She's cute, friendly, fun to be around, and undeniably hugable, squeezable, and lovable.