24 July 2018

First Weeks



Today marks two weeks of having our little baby in our lives. I took the above photo on our first morning after coming home from the hospital when (after realising our bedroom was too warm) we pulled our mattress (and the baby's) out into the living room floor to camp out for the first few days. It made our first week much more bearable, though considerably more perplexing for the midwives who came to check in on us every other day. Baby loved it though! Look how peaceful he is.



Jon's colleagues at work have been so supportive. They sent us the gorgeous flowers above last week (easily the most glorious bouquet I've ever received) and, when he went back to work yesterday, they showered him with gifts. My personal fav was a gift given to him by the female colleagues that sit near him at work. I LOVE LOVE LOVE gifts like this. I genuinely almost cried when Jon showed it to me-- and it wasn't because of the cocktail of hormones I'm probably bathing in right now. 



It has been so nice having Jon home for a little while, especially because feeding has been a real challenge. In the early days, I had to hand express colostrum and feed it to Ezra drop by drop while he sucked on my finger. These were dark days, especially when, on one horrible night I completely dried up and we learned there were no stores open for 40 minutes in any direction to buy formula. I haven't cried so hard in years. Jon stayed up all night with baby while I slept for four or five hours so that I'd have something to express. I took the above photo the next morning, when I finally was able to feed him again, he wrapped his little arms around my hand and wouldn't let go. (Heart... quivering... gah!) 

You can see by this point he had lost a fair bit of his birth weight as his chubby cheeks and double chin had disappeared. Luckily, he has gained it all back now, although feeding still is the most painful/emotional/frustrating thing. I had no idea it could be this difficult. 

For the first week we saw midwives and specialists almost every single day to try to get things sorted. Little nugget still won't latch, so he may have to be an expressed-fed baby, but I am so grateful he is healthy, happy, and has all his fingers and toes. Babies have a way of making you count your blessings. 




That said, I've learned babies can teach you more than just gratitude. 

I don't think you can know the real meaning of despair until you've just spent an hour+ painstakingly expressing a full bottle of milk, only to watch it come spewing up out of your baby like a 4th-grader's science fair project. Utter betrayal.

Also, projectile poo... I heard it was a thing, but never experienced it til today. It was made substantially worse by the fact the midwives refer to poo at this stage as 'korma poo.' While accurate, who decided that was a good idea? Now every time I get Indian food, today's experience will burn bright in my mind and will probably ruin my appetite. 

But even with those murky spells, motherhood has been replete with little joys and beautiful moments. Sometimes I can't stop looking at his squishy little face, especially when he sleeps because (unlike when he is awake) he is often smiling and even proffers the occasional giggle. Sure love his little man. 



And so, I think I'll end this post with this photo... because who could resist such a squidgy little face?? Until next time!

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