Bottling 'Em Up

The day came. Well, really, the night. Night came, and with it - one last bottle. He's not particularly attached to it. But, well, let's be honest. I am. And, we are done with them. It's not really the object I'm so connected to; it's the tie to infancy, the hanging on to their babyhood. And, with Knox's last one tonight, a big giant step forward is made away from parenting infants. While I realize he should have said goodbye to his bottle somewhere around 4 and a half months ago, I'm not one to just stop cold turkey on their first birthday. So, with each baby, we've weaned a little here and there and then finally said goodbye to bottles around 15 months. Well, Knox is almost 17 months - and I dragged my feet with him a little more. He's only had one bottle a day (at bedtime) for the last couple weeks now. Before then, we've been slowly dropping the mid-day and morning bottles. The transition has been seamless - MUCH unlike his older brother, Quinn's was, and somewhat different from Banner's, too. Dropping the bottle with Knox doesn't give me anxiety like it did with Banner, and he hasn't shown any disdain from drinking milk from a sippy cup like Quinn did. But, having a bottle in his mouth as I got him ready for bed every night sure did help keep Knox still and less squirmy in the past 6 months or so. But, a pacifier will have to suffice now, and it's time to bottle those bottles up - pack them up and give them to another family who can use them.

It's funny - I never wanted to have bottles in my house. I wanted to breastfeed, and with the birth of my first baby came the overwhelming societal guilt if I didn't succeed in this goal. Bottles and formula were a big no-no, and I wanted so badly to fulfill that desire of exclusively nursing. I wanted to be THE one who could feed and nourish my baby. But, nursing wasn't for me. I beat myself up over it more than I ever should - more than anyone ever should! And, within the first couple days of his life, we were already supplementing with formula and soon thereafter with an itty-bitty bottle. Bottles saved him. Bottles saved me. Bottles saved my sanity, my relationship, my household, and the relationship I would even have with my future babies.

The bottle parts - oh so many! The bottle washing - oh so annoying! The bottle carrying and storing and filling and spilling - such a pain. But, they nourished my children. They gave me a way to connect with my babies every time I held them close and looked into their eyes and sang or talked or hummed or enjoyed the quiet midnights with them. And, it gave their daddy a chance to connect, and their grandma, and their aunts...  We could all share the load, as well as the special time with these many feedings in the last 6 years of my babies' lives.

So, I don't want this little event to go unannounced, unnoticed, unmentioned, or unappreciated. I'm about to gain quite a bit of space in my cabinet and in my dishwasher - and I am so excited about that. I have big plans for that cabinet we've been waiting to empty of bottles and vent inserts and travel disks and vent reservoirs (I even know what they're called!) and nipples and collars and bottle caps and bottle drying racks. What a bittersweet evening this is.

So, a turning point for us... and for Knox. Tomorrow, sweet Knox, we will pour no milk into a bottle. We will rock without liquid. We will wrangle you with other enticing objects that might keep you still during the pajama routine! All three of us will miss our nightly cuddles while you suckle away on that bottle. In fact, when I told Daddy tonight was your last bottle, he was surprised and seemingly sad. I watched him hold you as he offered you the bottle before getting you ready for bed. He held you in his lap; you sat there in the folds of his criss-crossed legs, just guzzling away as he rocked with you, his lips on the crown of your head while I finished helping Quinn out of the shower. Then, I took you to read in the glider while you held your bottle and we read Hug, a book that lately makes you laugh - and read with us! After we finished the book, you had about one ounce left (which you rarely even finish these last few months; I'm telling you, you really don't need it anymore!). You let me cradle you and hold the bottle for you - something I haven't done in many, many months! I will remember that for a long time, sweet boy! Thank you for that - and thank you for letting me rock you after Daddy came in and took a picture to capture the moment. Thank you for the cuddles in the dark and the humming we did before bed tonight. Thank you for tolerating my tears as I made up words to a tune I just created as I went - about being my baby and letting me rock you and remembering and soaking up my time with all three of my babies in that same glider. It was a strange song, I admit it... one I'll never remember - but I'll remember you, and the weight of you on my chest, and your sweet smell and the tears that fell just embracing the moment with you - and that empty bottle on the corner of your crib.

And, oh, Dr. Browns, you've served my three children well, and they each thank you for reducing reflux and gas while nourishing their little growing bodies! So, even though I never wanted you in my house, you are hard to let go of! You beat out Tommy Tippee and Avent and God only knows the other bottles that never worked for my spitty babies. You survived 6 years of washings and soap suds and scrubbers and gums and tooth buds and baby teeth. Thank you for your service.