I concede defeat

[Edit: Mystery resolved at 730am.

She was probably having a tummy ache or preparing to poop and hence couldn’t drink her milk.

I went back to my room around 715am after Clarissa was done with her morning milk and basically told the hubs I had enough trying to feed Meimei for an hour since 5am.

And then I buried myself in bed with my eyes closed even though I couldn’t sleep because I was over-tired (like a baby hurhur). 🙄

Meimei woke up shortly after, and the hubs found out that she’d pooped.

Most likely after she fell asleep, since I’d changed her diaper and checked again before I made her sleep. 😥]

It’s 622am in the morning and I’m sitting in the dark after rocking the baby to sleep.

I went to bed about 20 minutes past 12am.

And since 210am I’ve woken up every hour to the baby’s grumbling or leg slamming.

She went back to sleep each time.

I listened out closely for her breathing.

She didn’t seem to have a blocked or runny nose.

Good.

I’d turned off the a.c. and turned on another fan before I slept.

And then at 515am she stirred and woke up.

Ok, time for milk.

Or so I reckoned.

So I got up, made milk, changed her diaper, and tried to feed her.

Only to have her struggle like I was trying to feed her poison.

Milk Strike at 530am?

Fine.

I left her in the cot, poured the milk into another bottle (who knows, it might be the bottle?) and got a cup of hot water to keep the milk warm.

Tried again after 10 minutes.

Removed her swaddle (maybe she’s feeling warm).

She pushed my hands away.

I put her down on the bed in front of me. She cried.

Tried to feed her again. She choked.

At this point, I just felt like running away.

Everybody can just wake up now.

Why do I always try so hard to make the baby sleep again after the 5am/6am feed?

I’ve been having broken sleep for the past few weeks, on top of battling this stupid flu virus.

And by broken sleep, I don’t mean not having 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep. That’d be luxury and all I hope for.

Everyday I’ve been waking up every 1-2 hours with a stiff body because each time I go back to sleep I doze off feeling stressed and ready to jump up again when/if the baby grumbled.

Which.. is still fine.

But this milk strike?

I suddenly cannot deal.

I feel so, so, so angry.

At the back of my mind, I’m not sure whom or what I’m angry with. I even know it’s irrational to feel angry.

But yes I feel like screaming, and just packing up and running away because I’m so exhausted I don’t know what to do anymore.

Thank God she fell asleep in the sarong.

Maybe she just woke up to say hi.

And there goes a 125ml bottle of milk.

It’s 642am now. Still early, but too late to start packing.

I got this from my FIL in the midst of my struggle, at 556am.

Maybe I could escape on a bicycle? Hide in the bushes of leaves and flowers?

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