I’ve nursed Oliver for 17 months now. All has gone pretty well (aside from the first six months, which were mostly just a horrible nightmare I pretend didn’t happen due to the atrocities from the hospital and a long story that deserves its own post), and Oliver has always been a nursing champ.
Until today. This afternoon he bit me. Three times. He laughed, and I cried. Now I understand why people say how much that sucks. It’s because it really really does.
I think it might have just been a curiosity about what happens… but if he does it again, I think I’m going to have to cut his afternoon nursing session. While I adore breastfeeding, I’d like to be able to do it with the next baby… Luckily, Oliver’s been kind of self-weaning in the afternoons anyway–he’s much less interested in nursing at that time of day. And he didn’t bite me this evening.
So, finally the thing that everyone’s been predicting would happen since Oliver got his first tooth (and for the record, he has 10 teeth and two more coming through right now) has happened.