I know I must look quite like a woman of leisure sitting in a chair all day long doing sudoku puzzles, reading magazines -- oh, and nursing! I had forgotten that it is a 24 hour endeavor keeping a newborn alive. He is just so busy all the time and everything he does is completely breathtaking -- working so hard at expelling waste with a serious expression complete with furrowed brow, taking lots of naps (mostly on mommy), and looking around in a panic the minute his eyes open as if to say, "I'm awake, why aren't I eating???" and then his little jaw pumping so efficiently. From the sound of things that may be where we are right at moment. I may have to take a little break here.
Okay. We're back. It is very ironic because although I am exhausted from my new sleeping schedule, I have much more energy than I did when pregnant. Now I can actually think of doing something and then go do it instead of staring into space! Except when I am stuck in a chair with a baby who won't let me put him down, which is pretty much always, thus leaving me frustrated and gritting my teeth whilst I stare into space. Alas, the more things change, the more they stay the same. Last week I decided to take a shower (I know! Lofty goals around here!) I told Ibby to poke her head in and let me know if the baby started crying. I needed to soak something in the sink so I did that and then jumped in. I figured as long as I was in there I should just clean the bathtub since the baby was sleeping anyway, but then when I turned off the water I could hear two disturbing things: 1. Very frantic screaming, like it had been going on for some time and 2. Water still running. I had left the sink on and it had overflowed all through the bathroom and even out into the hall! And when I questioned why no one had told me the baby was crying -- "Oh, I forgot," was the casual reply. He was so loud and in the very next room! Why does that sound only bother me? I quickly tried to put something on and take care of baby first and worry about the flood later. That is pretty much how well the household is running.
I had to take the baby to his two week appointment so I called the day before and said:
"Hello, my baby will be two weeks old tomorrow and I would like to set a time to bring him in."
"Has he been in before?"
"No. What time will be good tomorrow?"
"You didn't bring him in when he was four days old?"
"No, I had just had a baby and stayed home."
"How old did you say he was?"
"He'll be two weeks old tomorrow. So when can I bring him in?"
"Didn't the doctor tell you to bring him in the first week?"
"He did! And I didn't! Can I make an appointment for tomorrow or not!?"
Golly jeepers! It's not like it is a crime to not bring your baby in on the exact day that doctor told you to. Or is it...? She seemed like it was, but after my abruptness she was much nicer. Don't mess with a sleep-deprived, hormone ridden new mother! So I took him in and they told me to sit in the newborn waiting room, I imagine to avoid the germs in the waiting room, and I get to share the room with a new mother and her friend, enveloped in cigarette fumes, and the friend hacking and sniffling (is there a better word for full on mucus inhalation than sniffling, because I need one) away. I would've felt much more comfortable with the feverish toddlers in the other room thank you very much. Then the doctor is alarmed that the baby hasn't returned to his birth weight (which is very normal, or has he really not been confronted with that before?) and forcefully suggests that I obviously am not making enough milk, no one really can for such a big baby, and should supplement with formula. Inside I was yelling, "Are you kidding me? Do you really think that I will ever make enough milk if I am ignorant enough to take your advice? And are you going around telling all new mothers this? And we wonder why people don't breastfeed longer. Get me out of here!" But he just saw my calm exterior as I smiled and nodded. I am the picture of self-control.
So that is the scoop. Things are going swimmingly.