Gagging over spilt milk

NOTE: I finally captured not only a frown, but an out and out pout today. See updated post entitled "The Frown", below.
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When The Bean was delivered, I was terribly worried about her survival and didn't have the luxury of worrying about less immediate things, like breastfeeding. I pumped every two hours beginning the day she was delivered, and learned how thanks to a couple of very kind nurses and one very able lactation consultant. Somehow with her living in a glass box, attached to many wires and IVs, I established a fantastic milk supply (my mechanical pump and I got very friendly). I started nursing her once a day the day the speech therapist told me her suck and swallow reflexes were coordinating, and I was given the ok at 34 weeks 2 days gestation. Before that, she was fed my breastmilk through a feeding tube in her nose (interesting aside: they gave her a pacifier while feeding her through the tube to make her think she was filling her own belly). At first it was a little rough, because nursing too long burns too many calories with a baby that only weighs a few pounds, so we could only nurse 15 minutes and then most of the feeding went through the feeding tube. She took oral feeds once she was evaluated but they were bottles (except when I breastfed her), and whatever she couldn't finish went through the tube.

Fast forward to January 24...4 months and 8 days since her birth and 2 months since her due date. Getting her to take a bottle is a fight; amazing the difference a few months makes. She much prefers the cuddly comfort of The Boobie. Sean coaxes, encourages, and cheers her on when she take her one bottle a day, which he feeds her. Every single time she gags, chokes, cries, and is generally miserable, seemingly having forgotten that she has ever eaten from a bottle in her life (even though it is always less than 24 hours before). One day a week I am working and when I'm at work she does just fine after the first bottle. Did you know the tricky psychology of bottle feeding a baby includes: 1) Jedi mind-tricking baby into thinking his mama is not in the building by making sure she is out of sight; 2) Jedi mind-tricking baby into thinking his mama has evaporated into thin air and he couldn't have a Boobie even if he wanted one by her beating it completely (supposedly they can smell you if you're around); 3) slipping it in when baby is so sleepy he might not notice the silicone or latex isn't his mama; and 4) making sure his papa is the feeder of bottles as to not confuse. Supposedly, after she gets the hang of it, we won't have to be so manipulative. "When will that be?" we are currently wondering.

I am thinking about this topic because Gillian and I had a moment today while she was breastfeeding. Have I mentioned that she is the stretchingist baby in the history of babies? Anyway, she had woken up and started rooting (convinced there was a nipple hidden in her pillow, or the cover, or her arm...), so I started to feed her. If you sit right, the baby can look right up into your eyes, and she was doing that. A few minutes in, she delatched and streeeetched, arms over head, wrinkled forehead, arched back and all (we call this "turtle stretch"); instead of going right back to eating, she just stared into my eyes and smiled this beatific smile...this continued for at least 5 minutes. This is how you fall even more madly in love with your baby. One of the other things it does is makes you feel validated. There is nothing better on earth for your ego than a "oh-my-God-I-am-so-happy-to-see-you-mama" toothless squinty-eyed grin when baby sees you for the first time after waking up or when you've been away a few minutes, or a week.