Much Ado About Kate at 17 (Part I)

Kate was interesting as a baby. The first thing I noticed about her was that she refused to breastfeed. I should have seen that as a sign of what she’d be like as a teenager—defiant unto death! But I didn’t take it personally. In fact, it was no big deal to me at all. But a nurse came into my hospital room and said she would arrange for me to join a support group to help me deal with the rejection. WHAT?! I told her I was fine with it, but she insisted that I most certainly was not fine and that this rejection would eventually cause bitterness and contempt for my child and we would never bond properly. I told her to get her face out of my hospital room or I would climb out of that bed, stitches and all, and beat her with my bedpan. I’m sure she thought, you see? The anger is already beginning! So Kate didn’t breastfeed. Big whoop. She took to a bottle with hungry delight, and it never bothered me that we didn’t share that most intimate experience together. I always knew we’d have so many more later in life.