It's going better than I expected. Margaret has only made some token resistance to taking the bottle and has been pretty understanding. I was up three times last night, but it was brief. She has kept letting me know that she's really rather have it from the One True Source, patting my breasts, headbutting them (not comfortable when I've been pumping as little as I can stand), and occasionally whining for "meh". I try to explain that I am now taking hormones that are bad for her to have, but we're short of biology texts in the house so she doesn't seem to have read up on hormones yet. She seems to think that her mother is being unusually dense. Warren caught her pointing at the correct spot on her own chest this morning as if to help me locate the necessary part for nursing. Oh Sweetness, Mummy is currently at 36D, I have so not forgotten where they are.
I knew this would be hard, and it is. I can't wait for the stabby part, that's cake compared to this.