Chick and I just finished our first full week together. Not without its ups and downs, this has been full of firsts for us both. When find myself getting frustrated, I try to remember that we are learning– Chick is learning things like how to hold his head up, and me how to summon unending amounts of patience on little to no sleep.
Things we have learned thus far:
– leaning in to kiss my sleeping baby only to realize he smells like feet
– realizing that although he may have spent the last several months in amniotic fluid, Chick hates baths
– dubbing him Houdini after artfully escaping every damn swaddle
– dubbing him Pooh-dini after discovering he has managed to take the tiniest of shits and smear it all up his back, through his pjs, crib sheet, and liner. At 3:00 am.
– having the most absurd argument with Mr. O which went something like “Can’t you see I’m trying to take out the trash?” “Can’t you see I’m trying to make dinner?” “But can’t you see I’m trying to take out the trash?”
– pumping out breast milk while going 70 miles on the interstate (Hint: a car adaptor helps.)
– pumping out breast milk at 2:00 am while simultaneously feeding chick from a bottle containing my breast milk
-calling the 24 hour hotline because I found blood in his stool
– hearing this is normal… Only after I googled it and found the same thing
– dashing into his room to make sure he is still breathing
– learning the difference between his hangry cry, his diaper cry, his comfort cry, and his “taking a crap is hard work” cry
– debating if he is the most beautiful baby ever or if he looks more like a Minoan death mask
– crying after getting kicked in the nipple
– experiencing the revelation of a good latch
– discovering the wonders of a white noise machine
– feeling the sweet relief when you’ve successfully changed, fed, burped and put your kid to bed
This isn’t easy. No one said it would be. Is it strange to say I’m enjoying the challenge? (Call me after a few weeks like this, and I’m sure my tune will have changed.) I guess what I’m trying to say is that this is a struggle. But unlike others I’ve wrestled with (IF, mom dying, soul crushing grief, etc.) this one feels like the good kind. I feel exhausted by the end of the day, but not devastated.
Week two, here we come.