This morning started with another poor feed by the boy, but I’ve got this; I have to. The same small nurse is still telling me that I need to supplement. I want to throw things at her.
Dr Maria came by this morning and told me that I could go home today, as long as the boy is checked over and is fine. It was a little unexpected, and I’m not sure I’m ready yet. I just have to wait for the paediatrician. Dr Tounbas is a nice man, and he speaks to me like a human being rather than a supremely neurotic mama bear – I am, but that’s not the point.
According to Dr Toumbas, my baby boy is perfect. I liked hearing that. His Ticky-Tocky-Wotsit – Tachypnea – has resolved entirely. It is common in c-section babies because they don’t get the fluid SQUEEZED out of them in the process of birth.
My honey is at home in bed, because he hasn’t had any sleep this week. Going home should be interesting.
My Honey is here, as soon as we have learned to bathe the little Wigglebum, we can go home.
Oh no, it’s the same nurse that keeps telling me to supplement his feed with formula. I’m really trying not to lose my temper with her, but if she keeps going I will dunk her head in the boy’s bathwater.
I’m sure that the water was far too hot. Remnants of memory, from when Tich was a baby keep surfacing and telling me that things aren’t quite right. My baby boy screamed like a banshee the whole time we were bathing him, and all the while she kept telling me it was normal. I enjoyed learning the little bit of baby massage, as we applied the cream to this wiggling and perfect little joy-bubble. I’ve got this bit covered.
Typically, my gorgeous little monkey did not want to leave when we were finally ready. He wanted feeding, instead. So, out of car seat and onto boob. He had a good guzzle and just as we were about to leave, the same little nurse arrived to press two boxes of Frisolac into our bulging baggage. She’s tenacious, I’ll give her that. She’s probably getting a kickback.
Home at last, I’ve got this for sure
So much for not producing enough milk. It came in this afternoon, and it did not mess about. My little munchkin wanted to feed as soon as we arrived home. I got comfortable, the boy latched, and the rest is milk-drenched history. As I fed him from one boob, the other one leaked so much that it ran down my side, drenched my t-shirt, made little pools in my sagging skin, and soaked the side of the chair cushion. Result!
I wanted to go back to the hospital and squirt the formula-pushing nurse in the face, or at least wrap her head in my milk-soaked t-shirt. Haha, I’ve got this down too.
Unfortunately, the arrival of my milk coincided with the arrival of the boy at home. So many new stimuli, and a chance to gorge himself silly. He wouldn’t settle from coming home until after 23:00. Ten minutes after my Honey had gone to work, my boy slumped into an exhausted sleep.
We should have gone to the paediatrician this afternoon, but between leaving the hospital late and my boy’s reluctance to settle, we have an appointment for tomorrow.
I’ve got this, I’m sure I do.
I’m not so sure.