Carol Brussel, self-appointed representative for the word police, pointed
out the often negative connotations to the word snack which I used in my
post.  Point well taken, Carol.  I was recounting the situation using the
words of mothers who, as you also experience, would wean if they couldn't
get their babies to have 'meals' instead of 'snacks'.
Yesterday at work, I answered a call bell at least 8 times in 8 hours from
one mother on the third postpartum day. Each time the problem was 'He's
crying'.  Each time, I patiently reviewed hunger cues with her, as in
addition to crying, the baby was nearly swallowing his fists, rooting in the
bedclothes and trying to crawl over the sides of his plastic cot where she
places him resolutely after about 15 minutes of nursing, ended by her
removing him from the breast every time.  When she paled at the idea that he
could be hungry AGAIN after just one hour, I also patiently informed her
that this is normal, especially on the third day of life, and reminded her
that the baby can't tell time and doesn't care about much except whether he
is content or not.  Her son has lots of spirit and is unafraid to express
his feelings very vocally!  He doesn't seem to fit her image of the dream
baby and she is struggling with reconciling dream and reality.  Too bad she
didn't know that dyeing her hair red in pregnancy carried the risk of
passing on redheadedness, with personality to match, to the baby.
In talking to mothers, I don't use the expressions snack or meal, just point
out that babies, like adults, are different, and some eat to live while
others live to eat.  I also discourage mothers from prodding their babies to
suckle continuously, by asking whether they are in the habit of eating an
entire dinner without looking up, chatting with their companions, or just
taking a breather and letting the food settle.  Some people eat this way,
and do I ever hate to cook a good dinner for them!  I see these misplaced
expectations as an artifact of bottle-feeding, where continuous guzzling is
a necessity to avoid death by drowning.
Guess I should wrap this up as I am heading back into the trenches at 1500
hours for another stint in the Battle of Breastfeeding
Rachel Myr
[log in to unmask]
Kristiansand, Norway where daffodils blooming in the fog are the only sign
of Easter

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