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Thursday, 7 April 2005

ketchup


A more substantial post about the exciting world of newborn babies and new mothers is overdue, although I hope you've been enjoying the pictures. Jack is starting to think that mummy is a creature with a large lens for a face.

We both have our 6 week check tomorrow with the doctor, and I'm sure we'll pass with flying colours. Not that I know exactly what is being checked, but I'm pretty sure we're fine. I always had the impression that c-section recovery ended by 6 weeks, probably because the only thing anyone ever hears about is the fact that you can't drive for 6 weeks. The truth is, I don't feel back to normal yet by any stretch of the imagination. My scar is still tender and it still hurts when I move around or try to lift anything. I am definitely better than I was a couple of weeks ago, but I can't do essential tasks yet like lift Jack's buggy out of the car. What's annoying is that a woman from my antenatal class is able to walk her dog with her baby in a sling - and she had a c-section a few days after me. So why am I still feeble? It seems that some women feel fine and dandy after a couple of weeks, and some still feel pain in their scar years later. I really, really don't want to fall into the latter category.

Having said all that, I am feeling better overall. Although I don't think you ever get used to a lack of sleep, you do learn to cope with it and it doesn't seem too bad on the most part. On the nights that Jack only wakes to feed once in the night (e.g. he sometimes feeds at midnight, 4am, and 8am), I feel pretty good the next day. Coming from someone who couldn't even speak on less than 8 hours sleep a night, this is quite remarkable. Jack is on mixed feeds, which has made a huge difference in our nighttime routine. He gets bottles through the night (either expressed breast milk or - *gasp* - formula), which allows him to fill his belly each feed. When I breastfed during the night, he'd latch on, feed for five minutes, fall asleep (and trust me, I could not wake him for the life of me), and then wake up screaming an hour later because he hadn't eaten enough (and take ages to settle). Now he empties his bottle and goes back to sleep for another 3-4 hours without much fuss. He's getting enough to eat, I'm getting some sleep, and retaining what's left of my sanity. Part of the problem with recovering from a c-section is that I was exhausted most of the time and it's difficult to get Jack into a good position to feed without putting pressure on my scar. When I'm extremely tired, I don't produce much milk. The leads to a very grumpy baby and a very stressed mother. Giving my baby formula this early might make me a minion of Satan, but we're all much happier now.

Jack is turning into a proper little baby. He makes noises to amuse himself and soaks in the world around him. You can tell that he's becoming much more aware of everything around him and his newly acquired ability to smile has marked the change from newborn to growing baby. It's nice; newborns are extremely passive (and demanding), but they become more responsive as they get older. Jack and I often spend time just staring at each other - I look at him in complete wonderment and awe, and he stares at me trying to figure out what this fuzzy blob thing that feeds him is.

The good days now far outweigh the bad, and now I only get teary at things that actually do warrant tears (like some episodes of "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition" and when I tell Jack I love him every morning). Maybe the 6 week recovery doesn't apply to my scar, but there has been definite improvement in my wobbly new mother legs. I'm sure the scar will follow.

the happy housewife


I ran through my mental inventory of things I wanted to get done today: tidy up the kitchen, get the chicken marinated for dinner tonight, feed Jack and give him a dose of antibiotics, and do some laundry. I thought about making an appointment to get my hair cut, and what sort of snacks to whip up next week for the girls from our antenatal class. I made up a small batch of the soup I want to serve on Saturday to Gary and Ruth; it's a new recipe and I wanted to test it out first (it's good!). I accepted a parcel for the neighbours across the road because they weren't in.

Today, it hit me: I am a housewife.

Now before a gang of angry stay at home mothers show up at my door, I want to make it clear that I don't think there's anything wrong with being a housewife. My mother is one and her mother was before her. I just never imagined that job description would apply to me one day. I no longer have any deadlines, I can get things done during the day, and I don't spend my evenings thinking about documentation I need to work on the following day. I've been on maternity leave for just over two months now, and I've only just stopped wondering what's been going on with the product I worked on, and if I left things in a manageable state.

You know what? It's kind of nice to be a housewife. My days are filled with a new kind of busy and a different world of responsibilities. I thought I would feel a bit depressed about life away from the office, but surprisingly, it ain't half bad. I have to run - I have an urgent meeting with a young client who requires assistance with a nutritional matter.

Wednesday, 6 April 2005

reunion


The ex-pregnant ladies lunch club met at our house yesterday afternoon with beautiful babies in tow. It was the first time I've met Lucie's little girl Grace, and Conchita's bambino Silvia. Tosha's son Indigo demonstrated his fist-swallowing trick and treated us to an especially fragrant nappy for the occasion. Unfortunately, Jack slept through every minute of it, including the Crying Baby Chorus that serenaded us for a few minutes. There was lots of laughing, commiserating, and vigorous nodding of heads. It's very nice to get together with women who know where all the breastfeeding zones are in town, and who truly understand the meaning of the words "painful feeds" (and who agree that the incorrect latching theory is a large pile of meconium).

Apologies for any dog hair that came home with you, and for the Jasper bath service - and for completely forgetting to put out the cinnamon rolls I had made specifically for our get together. Baby brain strikes again.

another top tip


Reason why having a dog is good if you have a baby #73:
Need a dog bed? Need a baby gym? Just buy one and use it for both!

it's definitely not gas


I got my first genuine smile on the morning of my birthday last week. My heart leapt and my eyes filled with tears.



Can you imagine what I'll be like when he says his first word?

Sunday, 3 April 2005

the many faces of jack 2


Left to right: "Want a knuckle sandwich?", "I am filling my nappy and concentrating really, really hard.", and "This is what I think of Britney's new perfume."

today's top tip


Reason why having a dog is good if you have a baby #35: less baths for junior



Slight disadvantage: baby may not be terribly enthusiastic about this method