“Sorry I can’t come, the baby won’t take a bottle.”
Breastfeeding has become my go to excuse.
I cancelled my driving lessons before I even started them because Carrie won’t take a bottle. I want to join the gym but can’t because Carrie won’t take a bottle. Night out with friends? No chance, Carrie won’t take a bottle. I can’t possibly leave her.
I can no longer do any of those things that make me anxious because Carrie won’t take a bottle and I can’t possibly leave her, she feeds on demand after all.
Carrie is almost nine months and I can’t see an end to this, and to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure I want to. Breastfeeding has become a convenient excuse. A get out clause that no one can argue with.
I’m not sure when I’ll be ready to leave her. She won’t take bottles or drink from cups and part of me is glad. It gives me the perfect excuse not to leave her.
I feel like I should get on with my life, but I don’t necessarily want to, and the fact that she won’t take a bottle means that I have a ready made excuse not to.