What is day and night anymore? Toilet breaks are on scheduled basis – 5 minutes tops before Adam cries bloody murder – not for me, but for my breasts. Conversations with my husband are condensed to point forms. Text messages are becoming one-worded with the occassional emojis if I am lucky with time. And, I reek of milk every single minute of every day.
My nipples are in post traumatic stress with the hourly feeding and morning pump. No amount of nipple balm can help the state they are in. They gotta do what they gotta do. They are my weapon of choice (I don’t have any other) when Adam starts screaming for milk/attention/whatever else a baby asks for.
Breastfeeding is good for the baby, they all say.
Congratulations to us for surviving the first month. We even got a chocolate mousse cake to celebrate this milestone. I don’t want to sound cliché but, time really flew by. I could still recount the hours during my labour and here is my baby – growing well into his first month. I still cannot make out who he looks like. At some angles (with lighting/filters), he looks like my husband and sometimes, he looks like me. Time will tell.
My body has accustomed to getting by with minimum sleep. It is amazing. Like yesterday, Adam fussed the entire night and demanded to be latched 24/7 (RIP nipples). I got almost no sleep and could still wake up at 8 am and function like a human being with 8 hours of sleep. It is just amazing. I can only pray that I will get 2 straight hours of sleep tonight.
I’ve been getting lots of support from my family and helper. God bless my helper, she’s on my speed dial whenever I’m too tired to move a muscle. Minus the incessant comments about my choice of parenting, I am all good. I might murder the next person who tells me to feed Adam with formula because my milk supply doesn’t seem enough for him. Or, because breastmilk makes him pass motion more frequently and it may cause redness in his bum. There’s diaper rash so, everything is good.
We’ve been to a few places since my confinement ended last Sunday (my confinement lasted for 4 weeks, any longer I’d be reciting every line in Gossip Girl with my eyes shut). Nursing in public is a tricky situation. I don’t know how moms do it stealthily. Adam would pull my nursing cover if he could. Not caring about his mum’s dignity. It’s okay baby, we will get the hang of it. Soon enough.
It’s tough this thing called parenthood. But when I look at his face, my heart is full (yes, it’s that easy). And just like that, I don’t mind the sleepless nights (ok this is half true, some sleep is good for me Adam).