post-partum

What an adventure this past week has been! When I read about post-partum blues during my pregnancy, I never thought I would be one to experience it. I thought this perfect little baby would enter my world and I would adjust as if she'd always been there. I figured I'd get into a routine within a week or two and everything would be so much fun. It's day nine and I think I've cried at least once a day. I've almost given up breastfeeding at least once a day. I've wished for freedom from this creature that consumes my every waking moment. I've selfishly longed for time of my own without having to stop what I'm doing to feed the baby.

Nursing is still an uphill battle. She takes one step forward only to take another step back. There have been several times when it has taken her 30 minutes just to latch on. She doesn't cry or scream, she just plays around, or falls asleep. Those are the times when I just get so frustrated I want to give up. Then there are the times she latches on perfectly and nurses for 45 minutes straight. Those times I feel like I've constantly got a baby attached to me and I get frustrated at that. I know deep down that things take time. I know that one day she will get it, and I won't dread every feeding session. But right now that seems like a distant future. I'm really not seeking pity by writing this, really I'm just trying to record my thoughts for myself to look back on.

Thankfully, we do have a really good baby. She really does sleep for long stretches, and we're beginning to realize that's okay. That may be why she doesn't always latch on immediately-- she's just sleepy. I've been so engrained with the idea that the baby needs to eat every 2 1/2 to 3 hours that I'm glued to the clock. And when I wake her too soon, that's when she doesn't eat well. So we're letting her sleep. We still don't know if this is right or wrong, but she's gaining weight, she seems to have regular bowel movements, and she's usually very content. She does have alert periods, and that's when I love to play with her and find all the hard times worth it. She smiles in her sleep and it melts my heart every time. She makes the cutest sounds when she sleeps, like little squeaks of contentment, and they make us laugh every time.

My sweet husband is there every time I break down. He encourages me to try and try again with her. He reminds me that I'm a wonderful mother already. He loves to kiss the baby all the time and play with her every chance he gets. He's great at diaper duty. But mostly he's just patient with me and supportive in whatever options I decide to try. I feel bad that I don't feel romantic at all and that Leah and her feeding consumes my thoughts, but he seems to not mind. I'm praying that 2 or 3 weeks from now we'll look back on this time as bittersweet. We'll realize that it really wasn't as bad as we thought, and we'll regret that we wished it away so quickly.

Look at me-- I'm one week old!