I was tired.
Tired beyond belief. Only weeks earlier, I’d had my first baby and I was oh-so-exhausted.
My baby had been up all night with a cold and now he was suffering the aftermath: a blocked button-nose and conjunctivitis. And I was operating on about 36 minutes sleep.
I’d been told by numerous people – professionals and not – that a few drops of breast milk into the affected areas would sort him out. After all, it was liquid gold, right? Liquid. Gold.
So, the morning after the (horrendous) night before, I spent an inordinate amount of time wrestling my baby awkwardly on my lap, with his face poised under my chest. I squeezed milk from my breast, aiming it into his eye or nose.