No return address
Kiran is four weeks old and what a flipping four weeks its been. This motherhood shit is flipping hard AND it hurts.
Shoulders hurt. Fingers hurt. Thumbs hurt. Wrists hurt. And of course boobs hurt, specifically, the pointy tip of the boob, and the one boob hurts more than the other. WTF is up with that?
That's just the physical pain. The emotional anguish is much more painful. What with daily feelings up misery coupled with despair and a sprinkling of joy with maybe two drops of happy. I spent much of the first few days turning the little one over and around trying to find the Return To Sender address but there was no address to be found.
Dammit.
In the meantime, I've taken advantage of the excellent and FREE post-partum services offered by the Woman's Hospital of Texas. The have a weekly New Mom Lactation group, Pregnancy and Post-Partum Depression Group, and a New Parents Group. I've been going to all three (you don't want me to go all Andrea Yates on your ass, now do you?) and yes that means that I've been packing up Kiran and driving to the Hospital twice a week to see the outside and talk to other adults or at least, you know, look at other adults talk to each other.
Trust me, all my single ladies, this is no small feat considering the child has a pathalogical HATE of the car seat. If you were standing by a window outside our house when we are putting Kiran into the car seat, you would no doubt call 911, Texas Department of Child Protective Services, the FBI, and maybe Animal Control (she sounds like a cat sometimes).
While I'm not torturing Kiran by putting her in the carseat, I am feeding her (every two hours, 24 hours a day) and waiting and praying for her to go to sleep. The kind of deep sleep where I can lay her in the crib and she doesn't wake up five minutes later screaming.
Which is what I'm doing right now. She's on the boob and I'm cradling her and typing this on my Blackberry. What? You did'nt expect me to be at a computer do you?
Hopefully she be asleep soon so I can get out of bed, wash my face, brush my teeth and have some breaky cos I'm starving. And, oh yeah, pee.
OK. I think she's ready. I'm going to attempt to swaddle her.
Pray for me.
Shoulders hurt. Fingers hurt. Thumbs hurt. Wrists hurt. And of course boobs hurt, specifically, the pointy tip of the boob, and the one boob hurts more than the other. WTF is up with that?
That's just the physical pain. The emotional anguish is much more painful. What with daily feelings up misery coupled with despair and a sprinkling of joy with maybe two drops of happy. I spent much of the first few days turning the little one over and around trying to find the Return To Sender address but there was no address to be found.
Dammit.
In the meantime, I've taken advantage of the excellent and FREE post-partum services offered by the Woman's Hospital of Texas. The have a weekly New Mom Lactation group, Pregnancy and Post-Partum Depression Group, and a New Parents Group. I've been going to all three (you don't want me to go all Andrea Yates on your ass, now do you?) and yes that means that I've been packing up Kiran and driving to the Hospital twice a week to see the outside and talk to other adults or at least, you know, look at other adults talk to each other.
Trust me, all my single ladies, this is no small feat considering the child has a pathalogical HATE of the car seat. If you were standing by a window outside our house when we are putting Kiran into the car seat, you would no doubt call 911, Texas Department of Child Protective Services, the FBI, and maybe Animal Control (she sounds like a cat sometimes).
While I'm not torturing Kiran by putting her in the carseat, I am feeding her (every two hours, 24 hours a day) and waiting and praying for her to go to sleep. The kind of deep sleep where I can lay her in the crib and she doesn't wake up five minutes later screaming.
Which is what I'm doing right now. She's on the boob and I'm cradling her and typing this on my Blackberry. What? You did'nt expect me to be at a computer do you?
Hopefully she be asleep soon so I can get out of bed, wash my face, brush my teeth and have some breaky cos I'm starving. And, oh yeah, pee.
OK. I think she's ready. I'm going to attempt to swaddle her.
Pray for me.
Labels: pray for sleep
posted by singaporegrrl at 10:21 AM
4 Comments:
Oh Kerry, that is about the exact same relationship I had with Retta at 4 weeks. It's weird how at first breast feeding doesn't hurt. Then after a couple weeks it hurts like hell. Then. Like magic. It goes away. 4 weeks is hard. OH GOD and I could NEVER EVER NEVER put a sleeping baby into a crib/cradle/bassinet car seat with her or him IMMEDIATELY waking up afterwards! Who has those babies???? I've seen it done both on TV and in person. If you figure it out let me know ... and the car seat. Both of mine cried for what seemed like forever in the car seat. Then one day. Like magic. They LOVED it. Just keep trying. And play music. It gets better. And easier. No one with kids will call the FBI on you ... we've all been there. ... wishing you some good sleep ... xoxoxo
Just what I needed to hear, lady!
Thank you! :)
I luv your brutal honesty. I think these posts should be required reading for any dude who has ever uttered the lacking-serious-thought words "Aw. How cute. Wouldn't it be fun to have one of those?"
That post-partum depression thing is real. I had it, or rather I am still having it, but it's not as bad as the first few months of the parenthood. I actually had it during the pregnancy period. I didn't know who to turn to. It was so wierd. Then I took a new approach: don't try too hard; don't worry too much; and don't stop loving your spouse. If you need to be alone, then sit on the toilet bowl and let the tears flow. Not much support for the other gender. I know. I'm a guy and a proud father. Yeah!!!! Hang in there grrl!!
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