That's what her look said this morning.
Oh my God. I'm heartbroken. I literally saw the mapping of a new experience tear across her face. And I caused it!
We're currently working through Lesson 49,767: "How do you teach your baby that teething rings are for biting, boobies are ... not for biting?" I feel those jaws clamp down like iron vices and before she started teething and gumming things, I'd say to myself "thank feck there are no sharp bits (yet)", but now just the vice part is enough. Bone clamping on bone with a soft squishy, moveable centre that pings at odd angles when you bite it (that'd be my boob) is enough to send me skyward out of my seat.
And yesterday, I yelped loudly because it caught me off guard and it goddamn hurrrt. And she pulled back, stared at me with the biggest look of wide-eyed shock and then wailed the most awful, heartbroken wail - looking at me all the time with her eyes full of tears and it was confusion I saw on her little sweet face. "You betray me!", she was saying (in my mind).
So this morning, I thought for all the world that she would have forgotten yesterday's events - she didn't bite during her dream feed late last night - and I started feeding her like usual. Then she did it again. And I swear, as Steve is my witness, all I did was breathe in faster than usual. I was careful not to utter a sound because I don't want to upset the balance of her beautiful feeding pattern, she's like a natural at it.
But it didn't matter. The stone has been cast, it's too late now. I've become the first person to scold her and she knows it. I'm the mummy who giveth and who now taketh away (even if that taketh just happens to be for bloody legitimate reasons). Her face folded into a thousand little crumples and she burst into tears before even pulling away this time. She was inconsolable and if I hadn't kept my cool, so would I have been. Instead, I steered her away with gentle persuasion - I didn't jolly her up, not at first, I saw she needed to feel the pain of it and let her cry a bit, just rubbing her back and telling her I love her (erm.... despite the feeling that my boobs had been mangled in a steel trap).
Steve assured me I handled it well. But I can't help but feel bloody awful. Not that the alternative is any more attractive, I'd rather try and get out of the pain option - and I'm not about to set a precedent that allows the LGBB to do as she pleases if it's not asseptable.
It must be very difficult for them to even separate - "Suck on booby, milk comes out, bite on cold thing, gums feel nice". I honestly think she forgot, because she did it again after I finally coaxed her to keep feeding. But this time, I made sure I didn't even flinch. She didn't bite that hard but when she did, she herself recalled what happened the last time - she cried. So that's what she did again. Big doleful, pitiful wails. And it tore me to shreds. She also didn't finish her feed.
I don't quite know what to do. I think I'll call the Unflappable Ruby and see if she'd like to coach me with this one. I'm guessing I may have to wean sooner than I wanted, but I'd really rather not have to go through the rigmarole that is expressing. However..... I would also like to enjoy feeding the LGBB. And if she goes on strike (which is what I fear she may well do) my hand will be forced anyway. Even if I wanted to allow her to keep chomping like the big mouth on the Chomp ad from years ago (that's what I think of when I hear the word "chomp"), there's a little thing called a reflex causing me to whince or gasp, which I can't stop even if I can learn to reduce it, and it appears that this is what she's reacting to anyway.
I almost kidded myself that she is very sensitive to reading emotions - which of course, in some respects, she is - but that doesn't explain why she giggles uncontrollably into her fist if I go in to talk sternly to her about her sleeping habits. Is she selective, perhaps? Is she reacting to this new experience that causing someone else pain is painful? *curling into foetal position just picturing it again* It's so awful that you can't protect them from all these things! But then... what a bloody miserable life they (or you) would lead if they didn't experience all there was out there on offer. Doesn't have to start yet though... *meekly* does it?
How is it that their little faces can so clearly convey how much you've stomped on their hearts?!
Erm, any advice? Anyone? *echo echo*
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