Nowhere to Go But Up

Mein Gott. It had been my belief that by telling as many people as possible, as sincerely as possible, how nervous I was about going into Day 1 as a stay-at-home dad that I would be spared some of the sorrows that could befall a father with bigger blinders on than mine. Perhaps, that’s true. What’s certain, though, is that for six hours today I believed I was having the hardest day of my life.

Several taste tests, and a significant amount of Internet research later, my wife and I have determined that the reason baby refused to drink from her bottle today (!) was her exquisite sense of taste. She knows weird-tasting milk when she imbibes it. And it was weird-tasting. The Internet research suggested that excess amounts of lipase, a normal enzyme in breast milk, causes the milk to break down at a far more rapid rate than breast milk with normal amounts of lipase. That means that some women have to scald their milk before refrigerating or freezing it, even though some beneficial enzymes are lessened in the process. Among the hardships involved today: throwing out eleven feedings’ worth of stored milk. Once it’s broken down, there’s no going back.

The good news: despite not being able to feed my precious baby, who loudly and articulately let me know about her displeasure, I was able to get her down for two naps. These were victories, believe me.

The bad news: I probably shed more actual tears than my bundle of joy, 341 by my reckoning. The powerlessness I experienced today was probably the most intense I’ve ever known.