Tuesday, June 28, 2011
To any and all of you who had day that was a little on the other side of crazy. To those of you who woke up to bony six-year-old knees digging into your legs, and whispered sweet nothings of runny poos in the night. To you who fed a baby at two hourly intervals. For the whole day. To you who encouraged a toddler who, in deciding to toilet train himself, has developed the delightful habit of removing pants and nappy upon waking from a nap and using the cot as a toilet. To you who boiled the kettle seven times only to drink three sips of cold coffee. To you who had to choose between washing your hair and shaving your legs in the shower this morning, because heaven knows, there isn't time for both.
The house is now quiet, there might be time to squeeze in a cuppa and five minutes of feet-up-on-the-lounge. Well done for getting through the day. It all begins again in a few hours!
Sunday, June 26, 2011
1. It hurts. It hurts your nipples before the milk comes in. The baby is hungry and that mouth is bloody powerful. After the milk comes in, the let-down reflex hurts. And the after-pains in your womb, they hurt too. Blocked milk ducts hurt, chafed, grazed or cracked nipples hurt.
2. Nothing in your wardrobe 'works' for breastfeeding. Not only does nothing fit properly after nine months of growing a baby, now you have to find items which provide easy, and modest, bosomy access. Good luck with that one.
3. Expressing milk so that you can go out or return to work is a tricky business. Thank goodness for the new law requiring employers to provide a space for feeding/ expressing. I have red-faced memories of expressing in a library store-room and being sprung by a male colleague looking for equal-arm balances. And literally crying over spilled milk, when I knocked over a precious 30mls.
4. The is no suitable conversation to have with a nurse who has milked you at 2am when you run into her a few weeks later taking the kids to swimming lessons. Best to just avoid eye contact and move on really.
5. Breastfeeding is not linear. Four-hourly feeding is a load of crap. Babies are like us. You know, human. I myself wake up starving and want a great, satisfying breakfast. In the afternoon I like to snack, every hour or so. Funny that my babies are much the same. Give up notions of 'stretching them out' or getting the baby 'into a routine'. Because even once you start to see some semblance of a routine and feel like you might have this thing under control, it all changes again with a growth spurt, or illness, or teething, or something.
6. When you reach the end of your journey, no matter how long or short you feel it was, or how successful or unsuccessful you felt you were, you will feel sad knowing you are going to miss it. And you should give yourself a hug and congratulate yourself, for doing what it takes for your baby. Whether that's breastfeeding for two years, or feeding from a bottle from day one, or some combination of those. I firmly believe, and understand from my very different journeys, that every mumma does the very best she can for her babies.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
I am grateful to live in a community where this happens.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Hmm...I think a soul-cleansing walk on the beach might be in order today!
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
and I said High school.
and he said And after high school?
then he said I want to be a dentist. And a spaceman. I can't decide which one.
Somewhat prophetic birthday cakes, circa 2010. This year I made them a dragon cake, slightly concerned about what the year ahead will bring.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Friday, June 17, 2011
taken of my beautiful grandparents about six or seven years ago. I find myself making instant coffee now like she used to, stirring the coffee in the cold milk like mad in an attempt to make froth. I think it tastes better this way.
Today I am inspired by this post over at The Beetle Shack- I'm so enjoying perusing this blog. Actually just perusing sounds so enjoyable, doesn't it? Hope you have some fun perusing today!
Monday, June 13, 2011
Mummy, will you be died when I'm a grown up?
and a big chunk breaks off my heart, knowing that he worries about this, just as I did as a child. And I go
Well, I hope not my love. I want to see how you grow up into a man. Maybe if you have babies one day.
And he goes
I don't want you to die.
And I think about this all day, wondering why he thinks we will put birthday presents under his pillow. Then I remember all the times he has asked me when his tooth will fall out...
And I went
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
My goodness, so much gratitude I can't even say. Shortly after the last post in February, I began attending a Prenatal Yoga class, and it made me realise that not only have I been cluttering my space with unnecessary stuff, I have been cluttering my mind and spirit with unnecessary energy. I am so grateful for the way my teacher guided me to bring my focus to my body and baby. Such an enjoyable pregnancy, I didn't want to let go of it. But eventually, I heard the words Inhale- let, exhale- go, and knew that I could. Thank you Jodi. We had the serendipity to have a most beautiful midwife assist the birth. She encouraged me to be where I felt most comfortable, and supported me in a warm way. When I was pushing, it felt like this midwife became my mother, sister and friend, just by resting her hand on my back. Afterwards she told us stories of assisting mothers in Papua New Guinea deliver their babies in fields. Thank you. My darling, who has never wavered throughout any of our babies births, or any other time for that matter. Thank you.