Being a new parent

There are a few things I'm conditioning myself to do, being a new parent. It's hilarious to see how you yourself change as you learn different things about your baby. Emmett is 11 days old today. Meaning, he's almost 2 weeks! That's half of a month, & I'm not ready for all of that. Phil is excited for him to sleep through the night, be able to run around, being interested @ the zoo, etc. I don't want my beautiful precious newborn to go away. I love his facial expressions, how his legs are still curled when you pick him up, how when he's hungry he tries to eat everything, the way his little hands move around without any real purpose.

But a few things I notice myself doing these days...

Checking in on him every half hour. Looking for signs of breathing, seeing if he'll grasp my finger in his hand.

Not being able to fall asleep unless I hear him fuss a little bit. That way I don't have to get up to check on him, I know he's okay.

Making sure there is a binky & a burp cloth in every single room possible. Always have my blue suction bulb thingy in hand.

Becoming an expert bottle washer.

Keeping & hoarding those scoops that come with the formula... for some reason I think I'll need all of them, just in case.

Reading hundreds of new mother threads online to see if what my baby is doing is normal.

Talking about the color of his poop. (It's yellow. Good sign.)

Actually washing my hands every single time after going to the bathroom.

Re-packing the diaper bag. You never know when you could be leaving something behind!

Wanting to talk about my labor & delivery with other mothers.

Taking naps during the day even if I'm not that tired, just because he's finally asleep.

Tearing up when I look at him.

Getting down on myself when I hear people drone on about breastfeeding.

& now a little about my breastfeeding woes...

I'm almost to the point now where I dread feeding Emmett in public. It always strikes the question, "Why aren't you breastfeeding?" & it also strikes a headache, some pain, a lot of guilt, & a ton of frustration.

Breastfeeding was something I was absolutely excited about. I talked about it all the time, read about it. My first night in the hospital, I had a nurse who was kind of rough on me. She forced me to use a nipple guard when I really didn't want to. She'd like, knead my boob really hard & get openly discouraged with me when I wasn't doing it right. & when he wouldn't latch, she'd tell me to keep trying & leave. I had no idea how hard this would be!

Here I was, exhausted in the hospital, it was 2 a.m., & I was left to figure out how to get my hungry child latched onto me without any help?

I met with a lactation consultant, but at that point I was even more tired. I had trouble sleeping while in the hospital. I was scared it was going to be another grope session where everyone gets openly annoyed with me because I didn't know how to hold him or where to put what.

I'm angry at myself because I let it get to me to the point that by the time I was over how awkward & annoying that all was, it was too late to even try. I tried to pump to get it going again. But by now I'm sure I couldn't make enough to suffice one feeding, let alone a days worth.

So I'm going to end this blog just saying that no, I don't want to talk about the whys & why nots. I know the difference between breast milk, and formula, and I know what's better & what isn't. I know this because at one point I couldn't wait to hold my baby in my arms & nurse him.

But, as I figured out through the labor & delivery part, nothing about becoming a parent ever goes as planned. Maybe I'll keep trying, maybe I'll do what I'm doing now. Either way, don't ask me about it.

That is all.