The Obstructive Boob

SJ Snelson - 10 Mar 16

So the boob has always been an amazing body part. I mean it has potential to bring the boys to the yard and sustain human life.

But it also apparently has the powers to isolate a proud papa from his offspring.

I am riddled with guilt whilst Bambina is boob obsessed. I have already written about my boob vs bottle battle, but Mr O is fighting one of his own.

He is trying to bond with Bambina.

But Bambina wants nobody but me. If she can see me, hear me, smell me – she makes it known she wants and will stop at nothing to get me.

I know this is pretty usual for a baby who spends day in day out with her mama, who is comforted throughout the night by just her mama and who is fed from her mama… But had I not breastfed, Mr O would have comforted her in the night, he would have fed her, he would have been hands on, he would have had a way in – and my boobs took that away.

I am saturated in guilt and feel like I have to take full responsibility – this is my fault.

Bambina kisses me, constantly – and it is an amazing feeling to have love smattered all over you like that. But when Mr O goes to kiss Bambina good night or bye for the day she pushes him away and with that action she clasps my heart so it can’t beat and feels broken.

Mr O deserves to have what I have.

My heart cracks each time he gets knocked back and picks himself up, only to try again. My heart aches knowing that I would struggle to find the strength to keep trying off the back of this rejection. He has superhero resilience and I am praying to the stars that it doesn’t wain … ever.

Mr O has already had to compromise and miss out on one daughter and we were hoping this would be a full family love situation (with the usual rows and parenting failures). We did not imagine that Bambina would attract and repel to her parents like different poles on a magnet.

The pressure is on.

We ask; why does nature do this??

We are applying plasters to the fracture as frequently as possible – by removing me from the landscape. I can hear Bambina laughing and cooing at Mr O and I try to sneak glimpses through cracks in the door feeling like the problem, the cause and the solution.

I know that Bambina will grow out of her invisible chains to me but the waiting game is frustrating and riddled with emotions. I dream of the day we are all in a space together with Bambina in Mr O’s arms giving him kisses whilst I am ever present and watching my loves’ delight.

One day I will look back on this frustrating stage and selfishly miss being the world in her eyes.

One day both of Mr O’s daughters will know just how lucky they are to have a father like him.

And this is where the world will probably never truly be equal between the sexes – I mean men will, unlikely, never have the ability to carry and bond with a child in the way a new mama can.

SJ Snelson

I'm SJ. Living in Brum, in the middle land. I have 1 crazy bambina, 1 step-teenager, and 1 husband (who fluctuates between superman and Magneto - often depending on my mood). My family and friends are always my staples, my clan, my tribe – and Bambina my hero. Find me on insta @themamacave

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