2 Months Going on Sixteen. . .

Is it possible that baby girl hates me already? Yesterday was "Wed with Daddy #3." Wed #2 was a wash, literally. The weather was rainy, and cold, so we got stuck indoors. Needless to say there weren't too many photo opportunities. All in all it went well.

This past week, baby girl has been a terror with me. It may or may not have anything to do with serving her a bottle with maybe a bit too warm mamma's milk which may or may not have burned her mouth. Even before this hasty hot feed, baby girl was not wanting to be consoled by me, or better yet I was not able to give her a sense of security and calm like mamma.

It's been difficult these days since her tear ducts are in full working order. Those big teary eyes eventually lead to big tear drops. It breaks my heart each time I see her cry, knowing that I am unable to really help her, or she doesn't want my help. The esteem of being a father has been an all time these days with baby girl not even like making eye contact with me nor does she like to be held by me. She prefers non face to face type of hold- like over the shoulder, where she looks towards my back, or she prefers to be held so that she can look out and avoid having an engaging moment with pappa. Mamma on the other hand can just snug her really tight up to her face when she's crying and instantly she's laughing and smiling.

I already feel guilty about working so much and not being able to spend as much time as I would like with my baby girl, but there was a time when I could console her instantly, there was a time when we could hang out. Theses days I'm begining to think she already hates me.

Yesterday, Wed #3, baby girl screamed and cried at the top of her little lungs, get all red in the face, pump her fists in rage, and then after some prolonged time she would get exhausted and pass out for about an hour. On top of all this, she refused all pacifiers, as well as milk. We were at an all time low for diaper changes due to lack of fluids. What's a dad to do? Eventually daddy got smart and wrapped up the bottle in a burp cloth, so that there was this new magical nipple thing that had milk in it, instead of this bottle that scared her or made her upset. I've yet to read in any book, that there may be a time when you have to hide the physical presence of a bottle cuz it doesn't look like mamma's boobs.

So that's the story, not a pretty one, not a fun one, but it's been rough. All in all this is my baby, I don't hate her, nor am I angry, I'm just wondering, where's da love?

At least this morning was a nice moment with her, smiles, laughs and a successful feeding via covered bottle. Each day is a new day, and hopefully each week is better than the one before.

Happy 8 weeks old, baby girl!