It is finally here, the time for weaning. This is something that really scares me. For my child's entire existence we have had a relationship where he depends upon me physically. At first it was in utero and then he came out and it became breastfeeding. However, now will be the first time in our lives together where he will not need anything physical from me. I can't give him anything he can't get from anyone else.
It's so weird that our relationship is leaving the current phase. It is all I have ever known and I love it and have become comfortable with it. We will never have this again. I am worried about how he will respond to me now that this is changing. I worry that he will become distant from me or less respondent because we will no longer have our intimate snuggle sessions.
It is also distressing to me that I am about to leave the country for a month. Not only are we about to severe this physical bond between us, but I am about to severe all physical bonds between us for 31 days.
I do not want to be a stranger to my child. I am eager to have my independence back, to have my entire body be my own again. I can't wait to eat peanut products and drink when I please and have my whole body feel sexy in underwire bras. But I also feel like I am giving up a lot. Having the final nursing session right when he wakes up in the morning or right before he goes to bed will be heartbreaking. I can't imagine how I will deal with it, but I will because that seems to be what mothers do, until we die.
Showing posts with label baby. Show all posts
Showing posts with label baby. Show all posts
Husbands and fathers
I have been noticing a trend on the inter-webs lately where women will post pictures of there husbands doing something nice for their children. On the surface this seems nice and sweet, but below that it screams of a joy at the man finally doing "something" for their child. I can't help my first impression to these photos and anecdotes being confusion.
I know I am in an unusual situation with my husband being a stay-at-home father, but still. Nothing he does for our child is a surprise or something that should be praised because he is just being a father. I don't expect high praise for changing Little Man's diaper or giving him a bath. And the best part is that Mr. Neruda doesn't either. We just trade off on jobs with little to no discussion because we both fully assume that we will be pulling our weight.
The cool part about Mr. Neruda is that he takes care of Little Man by day and by night he becomes either a TA, philosophical doctorate student, or security guard. Those are the things that he should be applauded for.
Here's some logic* for you. For all things x, if x is a father then there exists a y such that y is care of a child and y is equal to x.
* The real reason to praise my darling husband is because I decided to better myself by learning something that doesn't come easily to me, logic, and his response was to get excited about the opportunity to teach me instead of saying he doesn't want to because he does it all day as work. He's cute.
Breastmilk Rules!!!!!!!!!!!
This article is very interesting. It says that there are stem cells in breast milk and that scientists are hoping to start using those cells in their stem cell research and get the embryo nay-sayers off their backs. But what struck me the most from the article is that, sheesh, breast milk is awesome! I know there are some women who just really can't breastfeed and that is sad and fine. But if you can, it really does seem best on SO many levels.
It seems like most working moms are formula feeders and in some sense that makes sense. Pumping in my work place's bathroom 2-3 times a day really does suck. However, I really don't understand how these women are able to give up the bonding that happens when you breastfeed. That is what makes me able to stand going to work, that I get this beautiful bonding time with my child that non of his other care-givers get. That he is my boy and that we snuggle up and just be with one another for a few minutes each day. It makes my heart feel better. And gives him some great nutrition!
It seems like most working moms are formula feeders and in some sense that makes sense. Pumping in my work place's bathroom 2-3 times a day really does suck. However, I really don't understand how these women are able to give up the bonding that happens when you breastfeed. That is what makes me able to stand going to work, that I get this beautiful bonding time with my child that non of his other care-givers get. That he is my boy and that we snuggle up and just be with one another for a few minutes each day. It makes my heart feel better. And gives him some great nutrition!
That's what she said
I really want Little Man to learn to say That's what she said. I am constantly staggered by the things that come out of my mouth when I am with him and I feel like he is really letting a lot of great wording go to waste.
For example, a couple days ago he was playing with the door jam and I told him, "Huxley, not in your mouth, but you can flick it if you want." Seriously?!?!?! He is letting a lot of gems go. Sad really.
For example, a couple days ago he was playing with the door jam and I told him, "Huxley, not in your mouth, but you can flick it if you want." Seriously?!?!?! He is letting a lot of gems go. Sad really.
Fear a day
I just started a book, My Year with Eleanor, a memoir about a woman who loses her job and decides to follow Eleanor Roosevelt's advice about doing one thing you fear a day. The book follows her trying to live that for a whole year. This is right up my alley. I love beating my own fears and pushing myself as far as I can go.
As I began reading something odd occurred to me. I will never be able to not live that way again. Parenthood has changed everything. When I discovered my pregnancy I decided to view the whole process that way. The labor and birth will of course be scary, as will my reaction to my child, but then I will be a parent and that is done.
Not so. Parenthood is one steady stream of fear. Obviously his first few weeks into the world were scary, that is to be expected. But the fear never abates. Every time I leave him with someone else it is a little scary. Potty training scares me. The entire age range of 2-4 really does scare me. His school years scare me with all the possible bullying, pain that can be caused by other children, his own personal failures and school shootings. Him traveling anywhere without me. Sleepovers. Snow skiing, river rafting, doing anything physical where he could possibly die. When he begins riding his bike away from me by himself. Driving. College. Getting to the point when I can't reasonably expect to have him check in once a day so I know he is alive, like around 30 or so.
The fact that he exists fills my life with fear. Therefore doing something each day that scares me is really not too tall of an order. In the book the woman resorts to swimming with sharks and skydiving. I simply need to put my child in his crib at night and then leave him for eight hours straight with SIDS creepy over his shoulder.
Thank you Eleanor for making this process seem healthy and fulfilling. At least I am going to start thinking of it that way instead of the highly neurotic way I currently have.
As I began reading something odd occurred to me. I will never be able to not live that way again. Parenthood has changed everything. When I discovered my pregnancy I decided to view the whole process that way. The labor and birth will of course be scary, as will my reaction to my child, but then I will be a parent and that is done.
Not so. Parenthood is one steady stream of fear. Obviously his first few weeks into the world were scary, that is to be expected. But the fear never abates. Every time I leave him with someone else it is a little scary. Potty training scares me. The entire age range of 2-4 really does scare me. His school years scare me with all the possible bullying, pain that can be caused by other children, his own personal failures and school shootings. Him traveling anywhere without me. Sleepovers. Snow skiing, river rafting, doing anything physical where he could possibly die. When he begins riding his bike away from me by himself. Driving. College. Getting to the point when I can't reasonably expect to have him check in once a day so I know he is alive, like around 30 or so.
The fact that he exists fills my life with fear. Therefore doing something each day that scares me is really not too tall of an order. In the book the woman resorts to swimming with sharks and skydiving. I simply need to put my child in his crib at night and then leave him for eight hours straight with SIDS creepy over his shoulder.
Thank you Eleanor for making this process seem healthy and fulfilling. At least I am going to start thinking of it that way instead of the highly neurotic way I currently have.
Balance
I think I have finally found a balance in my life. After Little Man was born my life in a vacuum began. It is difficult to get a babysitter, sure, but there is more to it. It is hard to want one or to not feel bad about getting one. Being a working mom it is hard to give up time with Little Man when I see him a whopping two hours a day on weekdays. To give up those two hours for something, anything, is really hard. During the weekends it is a little easier to part with him but scheduling anything during the week is horrible whether it be girls’ night out, exercise, major home projects, movie, shopping, etc. It was especially hard right after I went back to work and he began to forget about me by the time Friday rolled around. I just wasn’t in his life much. He was never rude or cried when I picked him up, he just didn’t seem to care or recognize me more than anyone else. And to compare his response to me with his response to Mr. Neruda, giant grins, squeals, etc, it was heartbreaking (though wonderful that he loves his father).
However, he has started a new schedule and I feel like we have now gotten to know one another well enough for him to understand who I am. He likes me as much as his dad now, sometimes more. But what has made a huge impact on my life is his sleeping schedule. He routinely goes down at 7:30-8:30 and sleeps through the night until 6-7:30. It is wonderful! When I come home I have concentrated Hux time until his bedtime. This includes nursing twice, bath time, play time, singing, dancing, reading books, piano and guitar playing, etc. Then I rock him to sleep (hopefully) once and that is the end of that. We bond, we play, we enjoy one another. And then mommy gets woman time. I am still on call, as I will be for the rest of my life, if he is sick or something is amiss. But mostly I am guaranteed uninterrupted non-baby time. Sure sometimes that time includes laundry and dishes and other crap but it also includes hot baths, painting, reading, husband time, exercise, the list is extensive. And I love it.
I love that I can balance the different aspects of my life now. If I want to meet someone for dinner or run an errand I can guilt-free do at 730 or 8. I can go to the Y and swim with no problem once he is down. I can indulge in hobbies other than pumping and baby care (my two main hobbies currently). I can live.
This has rejuvenated my life in so many ways. And I sigh a calming yoga sigh of relief (I can do that now because I can finally take the class and have learned how!).
However, he has started a new schedule and I feel like we have now gotten to know one another well enough for him to understand who I am. He likes me as much as his dad now, sometimes more. But what has made a huge impact on my life is his sleeping schedule. He routinely goes down at 7:30-8:30 and sleeps through the night until 6-7:30. It is wonderful! When I come home I have concentrated Hux time until his bedtime. This includes nursing twice, bath time, play time, singing, dancing, reading books, piano and guitar playing, etc. Then I rock him to sleep (hopefully) once and that is the end of that. We bond, we play, we enjoy one another. And then mommy gets woman time. I am still on call, as I will be for the rest of my life, if he is sick or something is amiss. But mostly I am guaranteed uninterrupted non-baby time. Sure sometimes that time includes laundry and dishes and other crap but it also includes hot baths, painting, reading, husband time, exercise, the list is extensive. And I love it.
I love that I can balance the different aspects of my life now. If I want to meet someone for dinner or run an errand I can guilt-free do at 730 or 8. I can go to the Y and swim with no problem once he is down. I can indulge in hobbies other than pumping and baby care (my two main hobbies currently). I can live.
This has rejuvenated my life in so many ways. And I sigh a calming yoga sigh of relief (I can do that now because I can finally take the class and have learned how!).
Huxhill
Since everyone keeps telling me that my child looks like Winston Churchill I have decide to start a series of Huxhill photos. The first enstallment is below:
Weird veggie
Mommy eats asparagus + mommy nurses baby = baby asparagus poo
What an odd yet delicious veggie.
What an odd yet delicious veggie.
1st Race, for real this time
Today marked a very special occasion. One that I am thrilled about and hope is the beginning of something beautiful.
Little Man's first race!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Technically, I ran the Koman Run when I was 6 months pregnant and did count that as his first race, but this time he was breathing oxygen and wearing a bib number and everything so this is probably his first one. I actually made his bib myself because I didn't think it fair for him to not have one in his first race. And because I thought it was hilarious and adorable.
It was beautiful. The weather was great, we were all in good spirits, and I ran into my boss as she was doing the 5K. Little Man could not have been a better sport. We got there, picked up our packets and all, breastfed (on a windy day outside which was a challenge) and then lined up for the race. By the time we were lined up he had fallen asleep. However, it turns out that he is one heck of a trainer. I had to stop twice to walk and every time I did he began to stir and stretch and I wasn't sure how well he would do awake so off I would go running again. Then we end with another awkward feeding session and a blow out diaper. However, through every single thing he was all smiles and contentment. He just let us manipulate him anyway we wanted and just went with the flow. As long as milk was in his tummy he was good to go. I just love him and his laid back nature. He is fabulous!
In my defense to walking, this was my first real running exertion since labor, or actually a few months before that. I have only been allowed to exercise for 3 weeks now and had a c-section, so I feel I did pretty well. I did finish third, which was annoying since I was in the Stroller Derby but the two in front both had 1 and 2 year olds which means they have been running a lot longer than myself.
One highlight of the afternoon was at the end of the run when I was racing uphill and feeling pretty weak. A man ran past me and shouted out, "Way to run, Mom. Good job!" I am not sure why but that made me feel amazing. It was a kind of validation for where I am in my life right now and for how uphill my running regimen really is. This is not the easiest thing to come back from, though it is possible. It is just nice to have other runners acknowledging that I am not this puny because I am weak and pathetic, but because my abs were cut through and I carried a whole nother person inside me for 9 months.
Little Man's first race!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Technically, I ran the Koman Run when I was 6 months pregnant and did count that as his first race, but this time he was breathing oxygen and wearing a bib number and everything so this is probably his first one. I actually made his bib myself because I didn't think it fair for him to not have one in his first race. And because I thought it was hilarious and adorable.
It was beautiful. The weather was great, we were all in good spirits, and I ran into my boss as she was doing the 5K. Little Man could not have been a better sport. We got there, picked up our packets and all, breastfed (on a windy day outside which was a challenge) and then lined up for the race. By the time we were lined up he had fallen asleep. However, it turns out that he is one heck of a trainer. I had to stop twice to walk and every time I did he began to stir and stretch and I wasn't sure how well he would do awake so off I would go running again. Then we end with another awkward feeding session and a blow out diaper. However, through every single thing he was all smiles and contentment. He just let us manipulate him anyway we wanted and just went with the flow. As long as milk was in his tummy he was good to go. I just love him and his laid back nature. He is fabulous!
In my defense to walking, this was my first real running exertion since labor, or actually a few months before that. I have only been allowed to exercise for 3 weeks now and had a c-section, so I feel I did pretty well. I did finish third, which was annoying since I was in the Stroller Derby but the two in front both had 1 and 2 year olds which means they have been running a lot longer than myself.
One highlight of the afternoon was at the end of the run when I was racing uphill and feeling pretty weak. A man ran past me and shouted out, "Way to run, Mom. Good job!" I am not sure why but that made me feel amazing. It was a kind of validation for where I am in my life right now and for how uphill my running regimen really is. This is not the easiest thing to come back from, though it is possible. It is just nice to have other runners acknowledging that I am not this puny because I am weak and pathetic, but because my abs were cut through and I carried a whole nother person inside me for 9 months.
Parent fail #4 and #5
Parent fail #4: Letting his nails get so long that he scratches his nose. They just grow ridiculously fast!
Parent fail #5: Eating brussle sprouts and then feeding him my milk. The dude has some painful gas, and so did the mom.
Parent fail #5: Eating brussle sprouts and then feeding him my milk. The dude has some painful gas, and so did the mom.
Medieval times
The Medieval Fair was this weekend and we couldn't miss it. This is something we love and look forward to all year long. Since Mr. Neruda and I both have cloaks, I thought it would be just rude to not include Little Man.
I decided to make it myself, without a pattern. It turned out surprisingly well, though the hood could have been a bit larger.
Again he began fussy and needed a snack while we were there. I found a new, wonderful use for cloaks. They work great as nursing covers. Really well. I am considering wearing one everywhere now.
We got so many double takes and shouts of love towards the cloak and our Little Man. It was really fun. The best part was a woman we see every year. She sells great jewelry that I always get. A few years ago she started recognizing us and it was really fun. This time we had a long talk about babies and how they are trying to get pregnant and how cute our child is, etc. After we bought my new bracelet and earrings we walked away. We were a little ways away when she caught up to us and gave us a free jade charm of a rabbit, for this is the year of the rabbit. It was amazing.
The cloak ended up coming in handy because the day was so windy and sunny that we needed a blanket to cover him up. The cloak is simply a glorified blanket so it worked perfectly.
I decided to make it myself, without a pattern. It turned out surprisingly well, though the hood could have been a bit larger.
Again he began fussy and needed a snack while we were there. I found a new, wonderful use for cloaks. They work great as nursing covers. Really well. I am considering wearing one everywhere now.
We got so many double takes and shouts of love towards the cloak and our Little Man. It was really fun. The best part was a woman we see every year. She sells great jewelry that I always get. A few years ago she started recognizing us and it was really fun. This time we had a long talk about babies and how they are trying to get pregnant and how cute our child is, etc. After we bought my new bracelet and earrings we walked away. We were a little ways away when she caught up to us and gave us a free jade charm of a rabbit, for this is the year of the rabbit. It was amazing.
The cloak ended up coming in handy because the day was so windy and sunny that we needed a blanket to cover him up. The cloak is simply a glorified blanket so it worked perfectly.
Breast feeding adventures
Well, I had my first public breast feeding event. I have fed him outside of the house on multiple occasions before this, we were just always in the car. The car can be awkward enough, especially on the OU campus with college guys walking past the window peeking in, but it was nothing like being in a store.
Some friends of ours, the amazing Fortneys, were playing at Full Circle on Friday night. We decided to make it Little Man's first concert and went. Inevitably, Little Man needed one of his many hobbit meals in the middle of the fun.
There was no way I was taking my child into the 50 Penn Place bathroom to eat. For a hoity-toity establishment their bathroom is the most disgusting thing known to man. I also didn't want to just leave the building so I decided to find a nice, out-of-way spot in the store and just feed him.
Now I remembered there being quite a few chairs really poked into secluded corners in that store. And my memory turned out to be quite faulty. There are some chairs in "corners" but none are that secluded. Then I thought I would just use the chair in the kid's book room because, hey, even if I am a little in the open people who come into that room shouldn't mind my actions. However, that chair is directly in front of the check-out counter and there were two employees just hanging out there. I felt that was awkward.
Now, as I cruised around the store looking for the prime nursing location I hadn't really realized just how many times I had lapped the store. Apparently it was enough to make me seem like a shop lifter because on my third time past one of the store employees started up a weirdly forced yet tenacious conversation. I mostly just wanted to get away from him and quit talking about whatever the hell he was trying to talk to me about since it was weird and I felt pretty awkward about what I was trying to do anyways, but I also didn't want my fleeing to look more questionable. It also didn't help that I had a book shoved into my purse that was a library copy, but the telling bar code was not overly apparent and it probably looked dodgy.
I finally decided on a bench in the back that faced the back wall in the biography and history section. Once we got all settled an older gentleman came walking around the corner angling towards the history area. He took one look at us, or really just me with a bright green blanket draped across me, and stutter stepped back eventually just backing out of the room all together. I wondered about whether I scared him or he just was in the wrong place until he hesitantly peaked around the corner nonchalantly and then disappeared a couple times before just walking back in with his eyes cast downward until he got right in front of the book shelves he wanted. This made me feel a little bad.
Little Man got half done and needed a diaper change. So we loaded our stuff up and went back to the cafe area where the fun was. I had felt pretty left out and a little bad that I had been thought a thief and made a man incredibly uncomfortable. So after Little Man got his pants changed and passed around a little I decided to stay amongst the fun and just nurse him on the floor slightly under a table. Though I did get to listen to music more that way everyone kept their eyes off of me, no one talked with me, and Mr. Neruda actually got up and moved away from me (to film something a table over, but it was still bad timing). I don't blame anyone. It is an extremely awkward thing and it seems a lot of people assume I don't want to be looked at as much as they don't want to look.
It seems that no matter the circumstances, nursing is always going to be a lonely job. It's sad because I don't want to make people uncomfortable but I also don't always like to hide myself in a back room or corner and miss out on all the fun. I mean, I am not out to show off my bosom to everyone or anything. I make sure to completely cover myself. However, the nature of the action is that it makes everyone think about my boobs which is fairly odd.
I am not sure there is a solution to this whole thing. I think I just have a long 10 months ahead of me.
Some friends of ours, the amazing Fortneys, were playing at Full Circle on Friday night. We decided to make it Little Man's first concert and went. Inevitably, Little Man needed one of his many hobbit meals in the middle of the fun.
There was no way I was taking my child into the 50 Penn Place bathroom to eat. For a hoity-toity establishment their bathroom is the most disgusting thing known to man. I also didn't want to just leave the building so I decided to find a nice, out-of-way spot in the store and just feed him.
Now I remembered there being quite a few chairs really poked into secluded corners in that store. And my memory turned out to be quite faulty. There are some chairs in "corners" but none are that secluded. Then I thought I would just use the chair in the kid's book room because, hey, even if I am a little in the open people who come into that room shouldn't mind my actions. However, that chair is directly in front of the check-out counter and there were two employees just hanging out there. I felt that was awkward.
Now, as I cruised around the store looking for the prime nursing location I hadn't really realized just how many times I had lapped the store. Apparently it was enough to make me seem like a shop lifter because on my third time past one of the store employees started up a weirdly forced yet tenacious conversation. I mostly just wanted to get away from him and quit talking about whatever the hell he was trying to talk to me about since it was weird and I felt pretty awkward about what I was trying to do anyways, but I also didn't want my fleeing to look more questionable. It also didn't help that I had a book shoved into my purse that was a library copy, but the telling bar code was not overly apparent and it probably looked dodgy.
I finally decided on a bench in the back that faced the back wall in the biography and history section. Once we got all settled an older gentleman came walking around the corner angling towards the history area. He took one look at us, or really just me with a bright green blanket draped across me, and stutter stepped back eventually just backing out of the room all together. I wondered about whether I scared him or he just was in the wrong place until he hesitantly peaked around the corner nonchalantly and then disappeared a couple times before just walking back in with his eyes cast downward until he got right in front of the book shelves he wanted. This made me feel a little bad.
Little Man got half done and needed a diaper change. So we loaded our stuff up and went back to the cafe area where the fun was. I had felt pretty left out and a little bad that I had been thought a thief and made a man incredibly uncomfortable. So after Little Man got his pants changed and passed around a little I decided to stay amongst the fun and just nurse him on the floor slightly under a table. Though I did get to listen to music more that way everyone kept their eyes off of me, no one talked with me, and Mr. Neruda actually got up and moved away from me (to film something a table over, but it was still bad timing). I don't blame anyone. It is an extremely awkward thing and it seems a lot of people assume I don't want to be looked at as much as they don't want to look.
It seems that no matter the circumstances, nursing is always going to be a lonely job. It's sad because I don't want to make people uncomfortable but I also don't always like to hide myself in a back room or corner and miss out on all the fun. I mean, I am not out to show off my bosom to everyone or anything. I make sure to completely cover myself. However, the nature of the action is that it makes everyone think about my boobs which is fairly odd.
I am not sure there is a solution to this whole thing. I think I just have a long 10 months ahead of me.
A pass!
It finally happened, my doctor gave me a pass to do whatever I want. We are talking exercise, sex, heavy lifting, whatever I care to do! And I care to do a great deal!
The problem is I was slightly naive about how this would go down. I thought it would go Me, Pregnant Me, Me. However, it doesn't. It now goes Me, Pregnant Me, Post-Pregnant Me. I didn't see that last one coming. Post-Pregnant Me is a lot different than Me. Different in ways that I am not sure will ever change.
For one thing I am now a two sports bra woman. I never thought that would happen. It isn't just that they are bigger but that they jiggle in a weird way and they feel EVERYTHING. Emily and Charlotte (or The Brontes as I call them) had better go back to the way they were. We had the perfect arrangement before. They were large enough to look nice in clothes but small enough so that they never caused any problems while I was being active. Now . . . well, we aren't each other's best friend right now.
My muscles are also all different. I understand that I haven't used my muscles in about three months so obviously my legs and things are weaker than before. I understand that and was prepared to ease back into things, knowing that I shouldn't start training for my marathon immediately or anything extreme. However, I wasn't suppose to get a c-section so my abs weren't suppose to be in as bad of shape as they are. I worry they will never be back to what they were. My doctor swears that it will all be fine, but I don't know. I am amazed at what they won't do at the moment. I understand that crunches and focused ab work would be hard but I didn't know that anything that uses the core will be thwarted and painful. Running, jumping, sitting up, picking something up from low down, certain dance moves, etc are all painful. It really makes my whole body fill off.
My limberness is also all off. I stretched throughout my whole pregnancy just so I wouldn't lose flexibility. But that is a bit wonky too. I blame a lot of that on my abs though. Except for my groin area, I blame that on my hip movement that happened during the end of pregnancy.
And last, but not least, is my stomach fat. I know, that is where the baby was and it is of course all different now, but seriously. I have never kept weight there and now I have an actual tire around the middle. It is made weirder because my legs and arms are basically their same shape and then my stomach and boobs are all weird. I hate it. I feel like I am horribly disproportionate and my clothes agree. I hope to all that this particular part will go away eventually but I am scared that it will not. I also hate how sensitive my stomach skin is. The part that was at the peak of my stomach and got stretched out the most becomes so painful, especially when my waistband pushes on it for awhile. Ugh.
But, enough whining. The great news is that I exercised for the first time in three months and it was glorious! Just putting on my workout clothes, which I forgot where I had stashed them for a moment, felt great. That very act got me so energetic and excited that I probably could have done a marathon that first time. In fact, it was a little hard to stop the first time because I had so much adrenaline pumping in me but I knew I had to. And the second workout made me feel glad that I did stop myself the day before. I'm not SORE per se, I just feel my muscles better than I have in a while.
All in all I am thrilled to be able to exercise, have sex, etc and start moving towards some kind of normalacy. As the previous post can attest, even the normal things aren't "normal" exactly, but their very acts make me feel better and happier than I have in months! Little Man may be more work outside of me, but I am still so happy to be just one person now.
Victory!
The problem is I was slightly naive about how this would go down. I thought it would go Me, Pregnant Me, Me. However, it doesn't. It now goes Me, Pregnant Me, Post-Pregnant Me. I didn't see that last one coming. Post-Pregnant Me is a lot different than Me. Different in ways that I am not sure will ever change.
For one thing I am now a two sports bra woman. I never thought that would happen. It isn't just that they are bigger but that they jiggle in a weird way and they feel EVERYTHING. Emily and Charlotte (or The Brontes as I call them) had better go back to the way they were. We had the perfect arrangement before. They were large enough to look nice in clothes but small enough so that they never caused any problems while I was being active. Now . . . well, we aren't each other's best friend right now.
My muscles are also all different. I understand that I haven't used my muscles in about three months so obviously my legs and things are weaker than before. I understand that and was prepared to ease back into things, knowing that I shouldn't start training for my marathon immediately or anything extreme. However, I wasn't suppose to get a c-section so my abs weren't suppose to be in as bad of shape as they are. I worry they will never be back to what they were. My doctor swears that it will all be fine, but I don't know. I am amazed at what they won't do at the moment. I understand that crunches and focused ab work would be hard but I didn't know that anything that uses the core will be thwarted and painful. Running, jumping, sitting up, picking something up from low down, certain dance moves, etc are all painful. It really makes my whole body fill off.
My limberness is also all off. I stretched throughout my whole pregnancy just so I wouldn't lose flexibility. But that is a bit wonky too. I blame a lot of that on my abs though. Except for my groin area, I blame that on my hip movement that happened during the end of pregnancy.
And last, but not least, is my stomach fat. I know, that is where the baby was and it is of course all different now, but seriously. I have never kept weight there and now I have an actual tire around the middle. It is made weirder because my legs and arms are basically their same shape and then my stomach and boobs are all weird. I hate it. I feel like I am horribly disproportionate and my clothes agree. I hope to all that this particular part will go away eventually but I am scared that it will not. I also hate how sensitive my stomach skin is. The part that was at the peak of my stomach and got stretched out the most becomes so painful, especially when my waistband pushes on it for awhile. Ugh.
But, enough whining. The great news is that I exercised for the first time in three months and it was glorious! Just putting on my workout clothes, which I forgot where I had stashed them for a moment, felt great. That very act got me so energetic and excited that I probably could have done a marathon that first time. In fact, it was a little hard to stop the first time because I had so much adrenaline pumping in me but I knew I had to. And the second workout made me feel glad that I did stop myself the day before. I'm not SORE per se, I just feel my muscles better than I have in a while.
All in all I am thrilled to be able to exercise, have sex, etc and start moving towards some kind of normalacy. As the previous post can attest, even the normal things aren't "normal" exactly, but their very acts make me feel better and happier than I have in months! Little Man may be more work outside of me, but I am still so happy to be just one person now.
Victory!
Thwarted
First postpartum sexual encounter:
As I am getting out of the bath, with the baby asleep, I think now is a fine time for some intimacy. Naked, I sneak into the living room to surprise my lazing around husband on the couch.
As I take off his pants:
Me: Hey stud, am I bothering you?
Mr. Neruda: Ummm, no, no you aren't in anyway.
Kiss, kiss.
Me: Why'd you stop?
Mr. N: We don't have a condom.
Me: What?!?!? Why do we . . . oh yeah, I'm not pregnant anymore.
Mr. N: Yeah, we need something now.
Me: Where were all the ones from before?
Mr. N: I threw them out because they were out of date. You were pregnant for a long time.
Me: WHY DIDN'T YOU GET MORE?
Mr. N: I forgot!
Me: But didn't you go on and on and on and on about how this is the week I get my doctor's pass? About how it is sex week? About how we were going to do it? Are you kidding me?!?!?!
Mr. N: Well. . . I'll go get some! Right now! It won't take long I swear!
Me: By the time you get back our sweet child will probably be awake.
Mr. N: No, no I swear he won't be, just wait. (As he trips around the room trying to put his pants back on. Six weeks is a long time).
It is at this point I would love to make a joke about the scene in Shopgirl where he asks if she has a jiffie bag and they could use that. But then I remember my slumbering angel in the next room and realize that jokes about me getting pregnant six weeks after birth are in no way funny AT ALL and I stifle the urge.
Mr. Neruda exits stage right in a hurry while a resume my after bath hygiene tasks. Then, a frighteningly short time later (seriously, did he drive 90mph and run all stop signs?!?!) he returns with a LARGE smile on his face as he is opening the magical box while trying to fall sexily on the couch.
Me: Don't you think the moment has passed.
Mr N: No.
Me: But at this point I think he really could wake up at any moment and then won't you feel REALLY frustrated?
Mr. N: No, he's fine. He is sleeping hard I'm sure. And you know . . .
Me: Well . . .
Mr. Neruda: (Sultry look with a finger gesture)
Me: Okay.
Kissing commences. Clothes are pulled off. As we are locked in a naked embrace we hear:
Little Man: SQUAWK.
Me: Um . . .
Mr. N: It was nothing.
Kiss, kiss.
LM: Squawk, squawk.
Me: I think he is, maybe . . .
Mr. Neruda: (Stops for a moment) No, I think it is just his sleepy sounds. It's fine.
LM: WAAAAAAWWWWWAAAAAWWWW.
Mr. N: Shit.
Me: Yeah.
Clumsily clothes are pulled on as I stumble to retrieve my Little Man. Frustration ensues until we see Little Man and his adorableness. The smiles and coos helped soothe the terrible ache.
Timing appears to be essential in parent love making. I always heard that but never put much stock into. Oops. What else is true about the horribleness of parenthood?!?!?!
As I am getting out of the bath, with the baby asleep, I think now is a fine time for some intimacy. Naked, I sneak into the living room to surprise my lazing around husband on the couch.
As I take off his pants:
Me: Hey stud, am I bothering you?
Mr. Neruda: Ummm, no, no you aren't in anyway.
Kiss, kiss.
Me: Why'd you stop?
Mr. N: We don't have a condom.
Me: What?!?!? Why do we . . . oh yeah, I'm not pregnant anymore.
Mr. N: Yeah, we need something now.
Me: Where were all the ones from before?
Mr. N: I threw them out because they were out of date. You were pregnant for a long time.
Me: WHY DIDN'T YOU GET MORE?
Mr. N: I forgot!
Me: But didn't you go on and on and on and on about how this is the week I get my doctor's pass? About how it is sex week? About how we were going to do it? Are you kidding me?!?!?!
Mr. N: Well. . . I'll go get some! Right now! It won't take long I swear!
Me: By the time you get back our sweet child will probably be awake.
Mr. N: No, no I swear he won't be, just wait. (As he trips around the room trying to put his pants back on. Six weeks is a long time).
It is at this point I would love to make a joke about the scene in Shopgirl where he asks if she has a jiffie bag and they could use that. But then I remember my slumbering angel in the next room and realize that jokes about me getting pregnant six weeks after birth are in no way funny AT ALL and I stifle the urge.
Mr. Neruda exits stage right in a hurry while a resume my after bath hygiene tasks. Then, a frighteningly short time later (seriously, did he drive 90mph and run all stop signs?!?!) he returns with a LARGE smile on his face as he is opening the magical box while trying to fall sexily on the couch.
Me: Don't you think the moment has passed.
Mr N: No.
Me: But at this point I think he really could wake up at any moment and then won't you feel REALLY frustrated?
Mr. N: No, he's fine. He is sleeping hard I'm sure. And you know . . .
Me: Well . . .
Mr. Neruda: (Sultry look with a finger gesture)
Me: Okay.
Kissing commences. Clothes are pulled off. As we are locked in a naked embrace we hear:
Little Man: SQUAWK.
Me: Um . . .
Mr. N: It was nothing.
Kiss, kiss.
LM: Squawk, squawk.
Me: I think he is, maybe . . .
Mr. Neruda: (Stops for a moment) No, I think it is just his sleepy sounds. It's fine.
LM: WAAAAAAWWWWWAAAAAWWWW.
Mr. N: Shit.
Me: Yeah.
Clumsily clothes are pulled on as I stumble to retrieve my Little Man. Frustration ensues until we see Little Man and his adorableness. The smiles and coos helped soothe the terrible ache.
Timing appears to be essential in parent love making. I always heard that but never put much stock into. Oops. What else is true about the horribleness of parenthood?!?!?!
Bright side
I just completed my second day back at work. It was still sad and difficult to concentrate with the sleep deprivation. However, there is a bright side: not being pregnant.
I didn't really like being pregnant. One reason for this is that I was constantly being watched, commented on, commented to, insulted, annoyed, etc by complete strangers and acquaintances. I couldn't stand it. However, while taking a patron back to the area they needed it dawned on me what was different since coming back to work. No one noticed me. No one felt the need to touch me or comment on my size or tell me their childbearing stories.
What a magical moment to return to my anonymous status. I could walk around as if nothing was special about me. No one knew I had just had a child. No one knew anything about me by just looking. I am no longer a walking billboard of one of the most intimate and life rocking issues of my life. Take that world, no longer am I an open book. I'm shut tight and shall remain so for ages.
I didn't really like being pregnant. One reason for this is that I was constantly being watched, commented on, commented to, insulted, annoyed, etc by complete strangers and acquaintances. I couldn't stand it. However, while taking a patron back to the area they needed it dawned on me what was different since coming back to work. No one noticed me. No one felt the need to touch me or comment on my size or tell me their childbearing stories.
What a magical moment to return to my anonymous status. I could walk around as if nothing was special about me. No one knew I had just had a child. No one knew anything about me by just looking. I am no longer a walking billboard of one of the most intimate and life rocking issues of my life. Take that world, no longer am I an open book. I'm shut tight and shall remain so for ages.
I'm a damp, itchy person
Part II of the wonderment of yeast. Thrush in the baby's mouth. Yeast all over my boobs and within. Seriously, this is miserable. I never thought I would love him suckling my bosom so much, but his suction is the most perfect scratching device. Nothing scratches my sore boobs the way he does which is weird but I am beyond caring.
I am a bit tired of constantly leaking milk and itching all over the place. Ugh. Then, today, my eye started to itch and I panicked that the yeast was in my eye. I am not sure if that is possible, and the eye itch has gone away, but it really freaked me out in the moment.
I am a bit tired of constantly leaking milk and itching all over the place. Ugh. Then, today, my eye started to itch and I panicked that the yeast was in my eye. I am not sure if that is possible, and the eye itch has gone away, but it really freaked me out in the moment.
Parent Fail #1 - #3
Parent Fail #1 - Put him in his car seat without doing the straps, then driving from point A to point B.
Parent Fail #2 - Squeezing the saline solution bottle to shoot the stuff up his nose when one should allow it to drip in 2 year olds and under.
Parent Fail #3 - Bonking his head on a door frame while walking through the house.
I have decided to keep a running list of our parent fails. I'm not sure why, but it makes me feel better.
Parent Fail #2 - Squeezing the saline solution bottle to shoot the stuff up his nose when one should allow it to drip in 2 year olds and under.
Parent Fail #3 - Bonking his head on a door frame while walking through the house.
I have decided to keep a running list of our parent fails. I'm not sure why, but it makes me feel better.
First day back
Today was my first day back to work. It was awfully sad and brought forth great anxiety. It was great to see all my coworkers and to find out all the insane shenanigans that have been going on around that place. I mean, seriously!
Anywho, I missed my Little Man something awful. However, it was bearable. In fact, I was almost completely unable to absorb the entire day. And Little Man is entirely to thank for it. You see, Little Man found himself in the middle of one hell of a growth spurt. This growth spurt included a 5 hour feeding session that could only come from my boobs, the bottle was inferior and cause for a giant fit. The 5 hour feeding session was only interrupted by a few diaper changes and some burping episodes. It was followed by a few hours of extreme fussiness. Then some sleep on his part and then two more feedings. Now you might think, WOW, that must have been miserable. Well, it wasn't the most fun ever. And 45 minutes of sleep before my first adult day wasn't ideal seeming. However, it caused me to go through the day in a kind of surreal haze that I think allowed me to keep my hormones in check and not bawl my way through the library.
I suppose I owe the Little Man a thank you. But I would appreciate a little less activity tonight. Praise all that is holy that growth spurt feeding sessions are followed by long sleeps.
Anywho, I missed my Little Man something awful. However, it was bearable. In fact, I was almost completely unable to absorb the entire day. And Little Man is entirely to thank for it. You see, Little Man found himself in the middle of one hell of a growth spurt. This growth spurt included a 5 hour feeding session that could only come from my boobs, the bottle was inferior and cause for a giant fit. The 5 hour feeding session was only interrupted by a few diaper changes and some burping episodes. It was followed by a few hours of extreme fussiness. Then some sleep on his part and then two more feedings. Now you might think, WOW, that must have been miserable. Well, it wasn't the most fun ever. And 45 minutes of sleep before my first adult day wasn't ideal seeming. However, it caused me to go through the day in a kind of surreal haze that I think allowed me to keep my hormones in check and not bawl my way through the library.
I suppose I owe the Little Man a thank you. But I would appreciate a little less activity tonight. Praise all that is holy that growth spurt feeding sessions are followed by long sleeps.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
