Jealous of a piece of plastic, a new low.
I pumped (what a weird experience, by the way) a couple of onces of milk this week and my husband attempted to feed our baby from the bottle for the first time. Instead of encouraging this process, I was quietly upset about being replaced. Feeding was our thing, something mommy and baby shared with no one else. Weaning off the breast also heralded the approach of my return to work. I know this is a necessary step so that baby can be nourished when I'm away, but I'm having a hard time accepting it.
My son, Philippe, took to the plastic nipple for a brief moment and then balked at it. -This means of course that mommy is superior! *Hmph*
(Someone, anyone, please help me deal. . .)