Back in mid-/end of July, Owen (age: eight months) bit me for the first time while nursing. Oh, did it hurt! It involved all of his six new teeth, top and bottom, and it came out of nowhere. He'd been eating just fine, and then he bit me. Why? I still don't know.
Well, I'd been preparing for this moment (dreading is more accurate a term). I'd asked my sisters and sister-in-laws what to do. I'd received the advice say "no." I'd also been told to flick him on the cheek and he'll never do it again. So when Owen bit me, I said no, I didn't freak out or make a weird noise, and I lightly flicked him on the cheek. He seemed completely shocked.
I wasn't sure he was done eating, so I tried to nurse him some more. He didn't wait a second; he bit me again. It was awful! This was not how it was supposed to work! I was supposed to say no, flick his cheek, and have no problems again. I tried the no and flick again. This resulted in the saddest look I'd ever seen my baby make. His lip pouted so big and he started to cry. I started to cry. I felt dreadful. I hadn't wanted to flick him even lightly the first time.
I tried to get him to nurse again. I got bit again. We cried some more and separated. There would be no more eating at this time. I hoped that if I waited until he was properly hungry he wouldn't bite me. Maybe he was just full and trying to tell me that. Hopefully he would forget this dreadful biting.
Unfortunately my hopes were in vain, he started his next feeding with another chomp. I cried from distress. I just wanted to feed him, why was he biting me? Why wasn't "no" working? Why not the flick? The flick just made me feel horrible and guilty and made him sad. Instead of nursing, Owen received pumped milk from a cup (a very messy disaster but he refused to take it from a bottle) and in some rice cereal. He thought the cup was great fun.
Three hours or so later, it was time to eat again. I was really nervous by this point. I was scared to put him near me for fear he would bite me, but I also wanted to nurse my baby. I wanted to hold him and love him. When I tried to get Owen to eat, he refused. He writhed in my arms and cried. My baby was scared. I'd made him scared to eat. I felt completely horrible now. We both cried.
I sang him songs. I kissed his little cheeks. I rocked him. It took fifteen minutes to get him to try breastfeeding and his body was shaking with little sobs. He bit me a little, but I didn't react. He started sucking and eating just right. From then on I determined never to flick again. I never will, not for any of my kids.
For the next little while, Owen rarely bit. I made sure he was definitely hungry when I nursed him. If he was going to have solid food and breast milk, I gave him solids second. I did my best to make sure he wouldn't bite me to tell me something.
Everything was going so well for awhile until he started slowly letting his teeth push down on me again. It wasn't like the first times. His tongue always lay over his bottom teeth like they were supposed to. They weren't involved. It was all his top teeth, and it wasn't like when you bite your tongue or something. His top teeth would come down with pressure with each suck. He'd leave teeth marks.
I tried telling him "no biting" and take him off for 10 to 30 seconds based on how many times I'd had to say it already that feeding. This didn't seem to work. He would become distraught. Sometimes there would be teeth marks and sometimes not. I couldn't always tell when it was occurring. And often the "biting/teeth pressure" would be worse when we resumed the feeding. I admit, I gave in. I'd just let him push his top teeth in as long as it wasn't too painful. Watching him cry and dealing with the worse "biting" didn't seem worth it.
It got worse though. It got to the point where I had small red dots, like pinpricks, where he'd put his little teeth. Just lightly brushing those spots with my finger hurt. I tried saying "no" again, but now I was really unreliable about knowing whether or not he was or was not biting me. I had to do something though. The pain was growing to a level similar to that when I first started nursing--similar and new all at once. Excruciating and tear-inducing all the same.
I prayed to be able to feed my baby and heal. I prayed to be able to get past the pain. I prayed to know how I could stop the "biting."
I decided to try what came to my mind, and my prayers were answered. When he "bit" I did the following:
1. I continued to firmly say "no."
2. I tried my best never to react in any other way, especially a way Owen might find amusing.
3. I would pop Owen off and almost instantly let him start eating again.
I did this a lot. Often multiple times during one feeding. The pain did not go away all at once, so I tried to gauge the pain. I tried to only unlatch him when it seemed like he was actively letting his teeth get my skin, more than merely touching the little sores. By letting him start eating without even a three second pause, he didn't get frantic and suck like a starving child (most of the time).
Things have vastly improved! Over the past two weeks, my sores are gone. I still have to tell him "no" and unlatch him during about one feeding a day, sometimes multiple times that feeding. I don't have to gauge my pain though, so I'm more reliable about knowing when he's biting me. This has made life so much better.
Now I just have to figure out how to get him not to bite the rest of me or other people...like knees when he's cruising by them on the couch, my collar bone or Tyler's shoulder when he's being held, Tyler's side when he's laying on the ground, my shoulder blade when I'm hiding under the blanket to say "peek-a-boo" [yes, that happened yesterday]. Silly baby.
