Hello and greetings from the crazy land of "Oh My God I've Got Two of Them, Now What Do I Do????"
Yes it's day 5 and it's all starting to sink in. Or maybe it's me just starting to sink...at any rate it bloody well better be the hormones because life seems a bit like a romcom film made on low budget at the moment...lots of frantic tears, cooing over teeny fingers and toes, and hysterical responses to normal household events (me to DH, "you threw our brand new rug away while I was in hospital?? why on earth...??" DH, muttering to self, "It was too soft! It posed a fuzz hazard! It had to go!!"). And so on. Is this real, I keep asking myself?
Back to the business at hand, sorry: my little girl (yes, a girl! oh great relief! I get to keep all the frilly knickers I bought her which she'll never wear anyway!) arrived on Friday morning as planned. While we had been expecting labour to set in earlier, it never happened and I never saw so much as a show or drop of waters.
After 3 days and healthy doses of morphine, I'm mobile and at home with a monstrous scar but otherwise feeling unscathed, compared to my last "natural" labour. In all seriousness, having an elective section was the best idea I've ever had, and every fight I had to endure to get it was SO worth it. The most painful part was the drip insertion in my hand at the very beginning (big wuss, me). The most difficult part was coming to grips with the fact that I was willfully asking someone to cut me open and pull out my insides. It seemed like a totally ridiculous idea at one point (Thursday night before the surgery springs to mind). In all though, it was calm, smooth, and quick. Perfect.
I managed to BF till last night when 'feed on demand' disintegrated into 'feed till your nipples fall off,' so we are using bottles rather earlier than expected, but at least I'll avoid mastitis this time. Am bravely trying not to feel guilty but it's not working very well.
MIL is being a huge help with DS, who is only mildly amused in the baby. Mostly her hair and the squeaky noises she makes when poked in the eye. I have high hopes for their siblinghood! Mostly I wonder how I will manage things like meals and bathtime with two, once all the help goes home. For now I will keep my head buried in the sand/nappies and attempt to believe there are enough dummies, bribery biscuits, and Calpol to make it work.
If it all sounds a bit grim, here is the light side: none of the drama or worry can possibly tarnish the massive relief we felt after having a completely healthy baby this time round. Compared with the nightmare which was DS' birth, this was like living in a spectacular dream. I savoured every second of those first few days, when before I was forced to squeeze my first mothering moments into brief and worry-filled visits to SCBU. This is what it's like to feel truly blessed.
Right then. It's been at least 5 minutes since I last stared at her teeny face looking for signs of life. Must go and reassure myself it's not a fantasy I will awaken from...
Love - formerly notsolilKel - x