The soy bean is not my friend.

Hands up who knew bread contained soya flour. Not me. I've been so busy trying to avoid entanglements with dairy during our trial that I didn't think to check the label on something I eat all the time. Cue yet more interrupted feeds and incessant crying due to painful wind.

On the face of it, trying to steer clear of soy looked pretty easy, seeing as it tastes of pureed cardboard. No, wait. Cardboard which has been left outside in the rain, torn into strips, boiled down to a pulp and sieved through a muslin cloth to create pure essence of cardboard. You get my drift. I won't labour the point.

Now that M and I are at the end of our dairy and soy free dietician-endorsed experiment (silly mistakes aside) I think we can safely say it worked. Naturally, I am thrilled that we've finally got to the bottom of it. My excitement fades as I contemplate a future devoid of decaf lattes, Cadbury delights, blueberry muffins, hot buttered toast and cream of tomato soup. I am making up for these glaring omissions in my diet by ingesting vast quantities of ginger nut biscuits.

The only alternative is to give up breastfeeding, but as I've fought so hard to keep it going I'd rather carry on, for now. Anyway, we're preparing to wean shortly, so no doubt that will be a whole other kettle of sushi (minus the soy sauce).

I'm asking you nicely.

I've never been one to cause a scene. I don't like to draw attention to myself. Ok, yes - my hair was a vivacious shade of red for a while, but that doesn't count because I thought I looked quirky and interesting. (Infinitely better than pale and interesting, in my view).

My point is that I'm still learning how to be assertive. Somewhere along the way in my distant past I had the curious notion that to assert yourself was akin to aggression. I took hold of that idea and made it my own. Nice girls don't cause any trouble. I really wanted to be a nice girl.

Fast forward a decade or two and this thinking just doesn't seem to work any more, however much I want it to. In attempting to manage my baby's unpleasant and distressing symptoms during and/or after a feed on a daily basis, I've been under the impression that somehow my experience was normal. That as long as the baby is putting on weight, everything was fine. Only it's not. It's not fine. It can't be.

I need some answers. Surely that's not unreasonable? Why is it ok for a medical professional to tell me that it could be anything? You have training. You have experience. I get that babies have a lot going on but I need you to narrow it down a little. In short, I need a diagnosis, not a brush off. Is it a milk allergy? Do I need to go dairy free? Do I need to change his formula? Do I need to break into song and insist you help me via interpretive dance? Because I may find that easier than putting on my big girl pants and telling you calmly and firmly that this really needs to be sorted out please.

Another doctor's appointment is booked for next week. Deep breath. Big girl pants at the ready.