Guest Post: How to feed your baby in the car, by Gargi Shastri

So, I am pleased to say that from now on, I'm going to be featuring some shiny guest posts. This is the first of them.

As some of you may recall, I had a big crisis of conscience surrounding the whole breast vs.bottle feeding debate. In accordance, this post does not favour one method over another. 

How to feed your baby in the car

With the right preparation, you can overcome some of the hassles associated with feeding babies on car journeys. Feeding time can be a more relaxed experience if you know how to do it safely and what to bring along. Read on for ways to ensure that your baby is fed safely and comfortably in the car.

Breastfeeding
Breastfeeding is considered the most convenient way to feed babies in the car by some mothers. It requires no additional equipment, such as warm bottles and sterilizers, and can be done in relative privacy.

However, the NHS warns against breastfeeding in a moving car because it involves mothers having to take their baby out of the child car seat to breastfeed, which is both unsafe and illegal. Therefore, it is essential to pull over in a designated parking area first.


Expressed milk
According to NHS guidelines, expressed milk can be stored at room temperature for up to six hours in a sterile bottle. However, if the length of your journey means you need to store the milk for a longer period, it might be a better idea to first express the milk at home and immediately refrigerate it. Expressed milk can be stored in the fridge for up to 5 days at 4০C or lower. For the journey, the refrigerated milk can be stored in a handy travel size mini-fridge or cool bag.

Formula
When it comes to formula feeding, it might be easiest to use ready-made sterile liquid feeds, instead of carrying hot water and powdered formula in the car.

If you prefer making the formula at home before your journey, make sure it has cooled for at least one hour in the fridge. Take the feed out of the fridge just before you leave and carry it in a cool bag with an ice pack in the car. The formula should be used within four hours. If you don’t have a cool bag, the formula needs to be used in two hours.

It’s not a must to warm milk before giving it to the baby, but if your baby prefers it that way, both expressed milk and ready-made sterile liquid feeds can be warmed in a travel bottle-warmer, which simply plugs into the car’s cigarette lighter.

Hygiene is a big concern for many parents when bottle-feeding their babies. Whether you’re using expressed milk or formula, make sure that your baby’s bottles are properly sterilised. You could use pre-sterilised disposable bottles and teats to make feeding in the car more convenient.

Solid food
Once your baby has moved on to solids, there are many options available for feeding them on a car journey.

• Pack jars and sachets of ready-made food.
• Take fruit that can be mashed up and served quickly, such as bananas, avocados, plums and pears.
• If you take food that needs to be ground up, a hand-operated food mill can be convenient.

It’s important to supervise babies when they’re being fed, to avoid the risk of choking.

Consider carrying all liquids in spill-proof sippy cups and use cutlery that your baby is familiar with.

Plenty of disposable bibs and wet wipes can help keep mess to a minimum.

Planning ahead for your baby’s feeds on a long car journey can take the hassle out of your trip. But make sure you also have adequate breakdown and car insurance cover so that your family is properly protected.

Author Bio:
Gargi Shastri writes for the Sainsbury’s Bank Money Matters blog on a range of topics including car insurance, car safety and other motoring topics. When she’s not writing, she enjoys yoga and cooking Indian food.

Avent

I really like my Avent bottles. Not only are they British made, but Daughter seemed to take really well to them. Except that the adapters on the Avent Classics warp in the microwave steriliser.

Trying to calm a hungry baby, and stop a bottle from leaking is not fun. Especially when you haven't been organised enough to keep a kettle full of tepid water (something I'm generally good at on account of my ten-a-day tea habit) and need to boil some fresh. You end up shaking the bottle to mix the formula and spray scalding hot milk all over yourself. Great.

So, after having just forked out for new Avent Classic bottles, I am going to have to fork out some more for the Avent Advanced.

Why not just take this opportunity to switch to the glass bottles I've spoken about before? Because doing so would result in me having to throw out all of the teats I've got an effectively start again. I wanted the glass so that I could be a little eco-friendly (and save myself some pennies instead of having to replace bottles all the time) and chucking out all the related paraphernalia to buy more doesn't accomplish this. Urgh.

I am so p*ssed off  at having had D-MER.I feel that between it, the house move and various other things, I have missed out on my daughter's early, snuggly days. All I can do now is race to catch up with her as she learns to do all kinds of exciting things and leaves me standing, longing for the cuddly feeds that I used to resent because I'd no idea  what was up with me.

New Born

We were out at the supermarket today and saw a couple with a crying new-born. The poor little thing was beside herself and it took me back.

Though Daughter does still 'go off on one' every so often, consciousness is no longer marked by an ear-splitting howl. It's amazing how, in less than five months, my child has changed so completely. People told me not to wish my time with her away, but I'm glad she's now so interested in her surroundings and is far more responsive.

I don't want to speak too soon after having put Daughter to bed, but things do seem to have become a bit easier. Slowly, by degrees, we are making some headway with sleeping. After doing the Johnson's Baby Sleep Challenge - which, I have to confess, has made me buy their night time bath - bedtime has become far, far less taxing. I still have to get up to (breast)feed twice during the night, but the timing of the last bottle of the day means that I can have a glass of wine, or a visit from Mr. Daniels with some ginger ale, every once in a while. And sometimes, after a day of screaming, a little tipple takes the edge off one's frayed nerves.

Day 3

So the books might have been right about putting baby down whilst drowsy instead of asleep. After 7 hours of uninterrupted kip, I had to wake Daughter up because I thought my boobs were going to pop.

So, we try again tonight, and see if it was just a fluke.

It was fairly eye-opening, having to get Daughter to feed during the night. Up until now, I'd always thought of the relationship in terms of her being dependant on me, but that really isn't the case. I rely on her just as much.

Which is why the fact that I've started weaning her onto bottles in earnest now was a little hard to swallow at 2am. Don't get me wrong - I am having SO much fun with the baby rice, and I'm loving the intimacy that the bottle affords me - but from a purely physical perspective, we will never need each other again once this is over. Of course, emotionally it's very different, but it's still one tie I will never get back.

I'm not going to stop weaning her, but I will slow down. I aim to have her solely bottle feeding in time for our holiday in October. Until then, I will do what I can to enjoy the last vestiges of breast feeding.

Night 2

Night two of the 'sleep challenge' was a total disaster. Daughter howlded through the bath and the massage, then continued to howl for three whole hours afterwards. We had a really broken night in general though so perhaps she had tummy ache or something...

Tonight I decided to actually look at the advice given. I promised myself I'd not do this again, but even at 3 months, Daughter is getting too heavy to rock to sleep, and as I'm weaning her onto bottles, I don't want to nurse her into slumber. The advice to put the baby down drowsy seems to be the way to go... I read the chapter of Black Beauty in which Jerry takes a girl and her boy to the hospital for free in his cab, then laid Daughter carefully on her mattress. So far, five minutes on, she's still fast asleep. Normally she'd have been howling by now so we will have to wait and see how this progresses.

Now, to dinner.

Growing up

Milestones, they call them. Developmental milestones.

The system* would have you believe that they are to be reached at a specific time by children who are developing at the normal pace. I've come to think of the whole thing like the A1 north-bound - everyone is pushing on in the same direction, but in reality, we'll not all reach Newcastle at the same time.

Most of us are travelling by car on or around the speed limit - we're hitting Newark and our first words as and when we should. But as it's an A road and not a motorway, all kinds of other traffic is allowed to travel our path too. You get tractors - steady and strong - classic motor cars which perhaps don't have more than 4 gears but are intolerably beautiful, not to mention the occasional and eccentric horse and cart. They won't get there as quickly as the rest of us but as its the destination that matters and not the journey time, it isn't really an issue.

Except.

People get competitive. We seem to be conditioned to treat all of these milestones as markers in a race. Daughter didn't smile until she was 8 weeks - 2 weeks older than most babies. Friend's toddler didn't gain weight as fast as expected which caused health bods to worry and question his development.

Things seem to have to happen to kids so quickly - they have to sleep in their own bed from day one, be away from Mummy from the time she's ready to go back to work, and learn to smile, to talk, to crawl all according to some sort of magical calendar. When we panic if our children don't reach these milestones at the same time - if not faster - than they're supposed to, is it any wonder they're growing up too quickly? We're competitive, so we push our children forwards in an effort to say to the world, 'We are better. Our child is better.'

Just a thought...

*I'm not one of these 'fight the system' morons, I just don't know what else to call the... thing (well, system) that our growing kids are supposed to adhere to.

Battling Bottles

So, Daughter finally took a bottle.

It was a really strange experience - liberating in that she was no longer solely dependant on me, heart wrenching because she was no longer solely dependant on me, exciting because she was trying a new taste for the first time and, dare I say it? Intimate.

This is the most intimate feeding experience I've had with Daughter since she was born, and possibly the closest I've felt to her. Instead of just latching her onto a boob and then distracting myself with mindless TV, I actually took the time to look at her. We stared at one another throughout the feed, chatted a little bit and had a really snuggly time. This was the first case where I was sad when feeding was finished.

Thinking about it afterwards, I began to see why. Aside from the D-MER and the resentment that brings with it, the act of preparing the bottle had been one of love for me.

I'm a big girl - always have been and always will be - and food is one of my love things. By love things I mean, ways in which I show affection. I love to cook for people. And though it's rarely more adventurous than tossing a few chips in the fryer, or chopping a few veg up for Sunday Roast, I know that the fact I've made an effort preparing the food sets it apart from the frozen junk I am guilty of eating when it's just me in the house. The bottle was the first food I've prepared for Daughter and was the first time she felt like a big person in her own right, rather than a byproduct of pregnancy.

God, that sounds awful.

The thing is, people seem to forget that a baby is a tiny human being. When we were on holiday, I kept trying to pay childrens fare for her, but the staff kept saying, 'babies don't count'. Even my family, who we bummed the lift to France with - baby passports are a tale worth telling! - kept saying, 'There are five of us. Oh, and Daughter.' As if she wasn't to be included with the rest.

I don't know when other people are going to start seeing her as a human in her own right. When she can talk, maybe? Right now, there are just all kinds of methods and theories to be applied in regards to her feeding, sleeping, playing... why can't we just say, 'ok, this kid hates bottles and likes to sleep with Mum and Dad'? It doesn't make her naughty or unhealthy because she has a preference she's unable to articulate...

Toddler

I introduced my friend's toddler to Daughter today, which was a very surreal experience. The little boy who had previously seemed so small now appeared enormous.

He was fascinated by the baby, and kept trying to teach her about the animals on his picture cards - which I thought was adorable. It's funny to think though, that teaching must be such an intrinsic part of human nature that even the smallest amongst us want to pass on knowledge. It is a fine thing.

In other news, I found a formula that Daughter will take. As I think I mentioned in a previous post, I bought a variety of ready-made formula cartons and so far, Aptamil seems to be the one she likes best. It has also had the least effect on her poo, which is far more than I can say for the Hipp Organic stuff... that resulted in a fudge-like explosion of stinkyness.

I've resolved to keep up breast feeding until she starts solids, just replacing the evening munch-fest with a bottle at the moment. Then as she gets more and more into real food, I'll do fewer and fewer feeds, eventually replacing what she does have from me with the Aptamil. Let's see how it goes...

Bath, bed, bottle.

My mother told me the other day that the bedtime routine of 'bath, bed, bottle' never fails so dutifully, I began to instigate it. The bath, to my great surprise, was the easy part. Though Daughter hated baths initially, working one into her day was a doddle. I decided to ignore the books again and didn't make the water blood temperature as was suggested, but rather comfortably warm on my elbow. It made all the difference and now baths are no longer the stuff of nightmares.

Bed has always been fairly easy. It's only in the last week or so that Daughter has decided she'd rather not sleep by herself so as long as we don't give in to this current trend, there shouldn't be an issue there.

As for bottle though...

You may (or may not) have read my musings on formula vs breastfeeding but after much careful deliberation, I decided to give up the hardest* feed of the day. My idea was to give Daughter a bottle of formula before bed to give myself a little break from the hormonal rush, give Husband some quality time with Daughter and to allow myself to get some cleaning done.

Daughter had other ideas though. Whilst she's always taken a bottle of expressed milk fairly easily, she absolutely would not take the formula. So, disheartened and miserable after 30 minutes of crying and with only 40mls gone, I decided to resort to the good ol' boobies.

I decided not to take it as defeat though. I've got a few different types of formula to try her with, and if that doesn't work... well, I bought baby rice. I know Daughter is too young now, but rather than getting down about having to continue with breastfeeding, I thought I could focus on the fact that soon, I won't have to do it so often anyway.

*Hard on account of the low milk supply and D-MER.

Formula

After a very difficult few days, my mother took me in hand and dragged me to the supermarket.

I read the labels of every available type of formula, then spent almost an hour trying to decide which to try Daughter with. All the while, my little baby was peering out from over the edge of the sling I use to carry her, smiling and gurgling to herself. The whole affair felt rather like a bitter betrayal.

It took nearly everything I had not to cry when I added two pre-mixed cartons of formula milk to the trolley. That money will remain, I am sure, the hardest £1.26 I will ever spend.

As mothers, we're programmed to do the best for our children, often to the detriment of ourselves. Yesterday, I went going against that programming for the sake of my relationship with Husband. The worse the D-MER and feeding gets, the more I take it out on him and the worse the pair of us feel. And really, though I know that breast milk is nutritionally better for my little girl, I also know that parents' who love one another are better than a mummy and daddy who are constantly fighting. And it isn't as though I'm going to simply stop feeding her breast milk over night. I will wait until I know I just can't go on with the feeding and stay sane (as has happened on occasion, when I've just had to leave Daughter in Husband's arms and go for a drive). At that point I will start swapping her pre-bed feed for a bottle. Because milk supply is at its lowest, it's the longest and therefore most miserable feed of the day.

I hate the fact I feel like that - I am so blissfully happy the rest of the time. Before Daughter was born, I'd even planned to donate milk to the local hospital to help pre-term babies but I can't even bring myself to pump for my own child any more.

Anyway, as I said, just the purchase of the formula felt like a betrayal and it got me to thinking about how just about every choice is difficult when there is a helpless little life involved. You have to weigh up all the issues and statistics surrounding what the medical profession perceive as risks and then make your decisions accordingly.

Over the weekend, I purchased a gorgeous second hand cot. It's a Stokke Sleepi and I would never have been able to afford one new. As it was, my parents had to buy this one for us because even used, these ingenious little beds fetch a pretty penny. I wanted Daughter to have a bed that could grow up with her - which would be familiar and safe regardless of the other changes which will happen in her life. And the bed came with a used mattress. To buy a new one - which is the ultimate aim - is more than I can afford, but I know that used mattresses increase the risk of SIDS. Happily, Daughter is older than the high risk age group, but putting her to sleep in her new bed still made me paranoid. And don't even get me started on what the warnings on the second hand car seats make me feel like.

As a result, I have decided that I can not go on feeling like a big nervous wreck who is overcome by guilt at every last little choice they make. I have thrown out all of my advice books and am setting myself a ban on parenting websites. Let's see how well instinct does...

Feeding

Before Daughter was born, I was intent on breastfeeding to the point where I refused to acknowledge that there might be an alternative out there. It was stupid, I thought, to bother wasting money on formula when my body could do exactly the same thing but better and for free.

As it stands, I haven't resorted to formula yet - 11 weeks in - but every night is a battle not to. I have something called D-MER which is basically a disproportionately high drop in dopamine levels when milk let down occurs. Since knowing that all the horrible feelings I've had whilst breastfeeding - not least that I am a wicked person, that I don't deserve my daughter, that I should hurt myself in some way - were down to hormones and not depression has made it easier to bear. I can tell myself that the feelings aren't real and that they'll stop at the end of a feed.

I know that breastfeeding is nutritionally best for my baby, but I'm torn between meeting her physical needs and our emotional ones. People talk about breastfeeding being a bonding experience, a time to get to know one another, but for me it has become an endurance test. But here's the kicker: every time I go to feed my daughter, I resent her for being hungry.

Don't misunderstand me, I love my daughter and nothing in the world could stop that. But when I start to feel bitter about having to sit down and feed her, knowing it will make me feel as though the world is ending, I start to think that actually, formula would probably be better for us.

In addition, her father could take part in feedings. My partner has had some degree of trouble connecting with our baby because he feels he can do nothing for her when she cries. We've fought about this in the past and I can't help but think that our relationship would benefit too if we were on something of an even keel where Daughter is concerned.

I will persevere with breastfeeding for as long as I can, however as soon as money is more readily available then I will seriously consider making the switch.

At the moment, I feel so terrible feeding her that it is putting me off ever having another child.