Since we've been back from Canada, Emily (and I) have recovered from a nasty bout of "fizzy gravy". Mine was accompanied by a case of dehydration and some aching (I mean aching) kidneys. I'm actually quite happy I went through it, as I have a better understanding of the hell Emily must have gone through, not having experienced diarrhoea before.
Since she's got over it, and to celebrate returning from North America, Emily growing up and Sue and I thinking it's about time, the evening feed has stopped. There have been evenings when she's fallen asleep without a feed and all has been well, but these past few days (I'm counting almost a week here), she's been a little scream monster. It's not a small bout either, it goes on and on and on.
I've lost my patience on a number of occasions (although not in a Christian Bale way... yet) and have to calm myself down before dealing with her. Sometimes I think there's actually something wrong with her and can recall all too well the aching in my kidneys, wondering if the pain is mirrored. However, the screams then can slide right into a smile or laugh and I realise that that kind of pain doesn't turn off like a tap.
She'll get used to it eventually, going to sleep without boob milk. No one can enjoy the sweet delights of bittie forever, else we'd all be clamouring to the teet still and no work would ever get done. I just hope she gets used to it sooner than later, as her banshee-like shrieks are ripping a strip off my hearing.