Perhaps this is why I am now able to write about them. And I believe that our difficulties have only recently been resolved (at the time of writing the book, late 2001, my son was eight years old). I believe that our difficulties around feeding had their beginnings in my early attempts at breastfeeding, attempts that failed due to my lack of milk.
But my view is that the problem had earlier origins and lasted much longer. Medically, it probably began when he contracted viral pharangytis, a severe throat infection, at three months and ended some time in his sixth month. It is difficult to put dates to the problem. This is a story about my first and only experience of mothering, and of the ways in which my infant son’s feeding disorder affected that experience. And, of course, I need to thank my son for giving me a reason to endure and for strengthening my conviction that telling our story is a worthwhile thing to do. I am also grateful to the readers at Spinifex for drawing to my attention important lacunae in the narrative, and to my editor, Barbara Burton, for her attention to detail. My sincere thanks to Greg de Cure, Chris Beasley, Zoe Gill, Robert Dare, Christine Finnimore, Lisa Hill, Fred Guilhaus, Anne Yeomans and Paul Corcoran for their thoughtful comments and suggestions. I also want to acknowledge the help of my dear friends in Canberra and in Sydney who stood by us even when this must not have been easy to do.
Their willingness to disrupt their tranquility by taking my son and me into their home for six weeks will always be remembered with gratitude. My brother, Don, and his wife, Rhonda, deserve to be singled out. The people who helped me through this difficult time are mentioned in the text but I have changed most of their names to guarantee their privacy.
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