You realize, of course, that there aren’t going to be many action shots for a while? Also, if you’d rather not read about milk/babies/breasts then it’s probably time to visit another website.
Zane has been snoozing it up the past few days. Another four and a half hour sleep last night after swigging down a big bottle of milk. 60 ml is normal for him and sometimes he snacks on as little as 30, so when we say he puts down 95 or 140 ml it’s quite an achievement. Last night he ate 95 ml about an hour before going to sleep. It isn’t always an easy thing getting this milk into him, since the high fat content in the milk sometimes clogs the nipple and he’ll be worrying away at the bottle for five to ten minutes before we notice that, hey, he’s not making any progress!
One of the ladies Faith talked to about lactation mentioned that mother’s milk is often thin and blue-ish. Not so with Zane’s supply, it’s a creamy yellow, rich and thick. She also said that the mother, or rather the breasts, modifies the milk output based on the babies needs. So if Zane isn’t eating much the milk will be richer. Does that mean if he starts staying awake/crying more it becomes more of a soporific? I’d have to say that to my unscientific eye the milk has been changing the past few days.
I have been thinking about the idea of milk changing to suit the baby ever since Faith first mentioned it.
I once read that some trees had exhibited a telepathy of sorts such that when a stand of trees was attacked by a new strain of insect, the trees furthest away from the onslaught would have developed something to counter with by the time the bug reached them.
So how does the Mommy Milk Machine™ pick up on the baby’s needs? Since Faith isn’t breast feeding it can’t be communicated that way (i.e. a nipple network connection). Other possible candidates:
- overall baby smell
- baby poop smell
- subtle pheromones
The last one is a bit of a stretch, but considering that I don’t understand how any of them would work I guess it shouldn’t be ruled out.
When Zane was only five days old we went back to the hospital to see the lactation consultant about getting him to latch. While Faith sat on the rocking chair and took off her top I got Zane out of his stroller, unwrapped him, and checked his diaper. Too much too soon and he let out a hearty wail of protest. Faith’s eye’s bugged out and she got a look of utter (udder!) astonishment on her face and grabbed her chest. She said that when he cried it was like her whole chest suddenly engorged itself.
That makes sound a strong contender.
As to smell, well, I have a much better sense of smell than Faith and I’m not picking up anything here. Zane pretty much smells great all of the time, even if we space out on washing him for a couple of days. Mostly a “warm” smell. His poop smells a bit yeasty so far and I’m not detecting any subtle undertones. But, as the Mom, Faith could be operating on a whole other plane of odiferous existence that is finely attuned to the baby.
Since she hasn’t really said much about smell and being more sensitive to it I’m not voting for it.
In the story Madelaine the mother sits up in her bed one night and says, “Something’s just not right,” and goes down the hall to find Madelaine sick with an appendicitis. So far Faith hasn’t exhibited any uncanny remote baby sensing abilities. And to be thorough here: she also hasn’t used her mind to calm the baby, levitate the bottle across the room, nor implant subliminal suggestions that I should cook more often.
That doesn’t rule out her body somehow being attuned to how Zane acts, smells, moves, sounds, feels, or toots.
Being the dad I pick up only the blatant signs: he’s yelling in my ear, must run down the checklist. I don’t think that I even alter my repertoire of baby babel to a given situation. Still, if Faith’s system somehow alters the chemical balance of milk production to make Zane healthier, happier, or to sleep longer I’m all for it!