Postpartum: "Sleep when the baby sleeps"

So, it's been a while. Ahem.

Not like I've been busy or anything. It actually feels like I don't do anything all day. Nothing but take care of the baby. Which IS something. It just goes to show how much we've been socialized to devalue taking care of children. As if it isn't "productive" enough to be valuable, noteworthy or substantive.

Our little guy is now more than a month old.

Quite a handsome little guy, if I may say so myself.

It's been all right. Getting up in the middle of the night to nurse him is tough, but I don't feel like a zombie or anything during the day. I don't always sleep when he sleeps, but I do take a nap once my husband gets home and that helps out a lot.

I had a couple of rough nights when he was first born, before my milk came in, but otherwise it hasn't been this tortuous thing.

I just feel like I've been told negative things about taking care of a child, i.e. "You're not going to get any sleep," "Breastfeeding is hard," etc. And I know people are just being honest with me or trying to prepare me so I'm not blindsided, but once I got to the point of experiencing these things myself, I was expecting them to be so much worse than they actually were.

Here's an unsolicited advice story: My in-laws came to visit last week, and we went to dinner and brought our little guy with us. We had him in his car seat and covered it with a blanket. It was crowded and busy and we were waiting for a table along with several other people. Of course when you have a baby out in public, people are going to ask you questions and offer their two cents. But this old lady sitting near us needed to go saddown. Speaking of the baby in the car seat being covered with a blanket, she said, "He looks hot. You don't want him to get uncomfortable and overheated. You need to get a breathable blanket. My sons and daughters use breathable blankets for their kids and they're so much more comfortable for them. You can get them on Amazon, you should order one." My husband was just like, "He's fine." LOL. Chill out, old lady. Talking about some "he looks hot." Girl, he's covered with a blanket, you can't even see him to begin with. Breathable blanket, schmeathable schmanket.

Oh, and another baby-out-in-public-girl-saddown story: We were at the pediatrician's office, again, with the baby in the car seat and covered with a blanket. He started fussing, so P lifted it to give him a pacifier or whatever, and the people sitting on either side of us leaned in to see him. "Aww, he's so adorable," they said. And that's fine, I mean, you're sitting right next to us, so there's not much for you to do to be able to see the baby. He's right in front of you. But this girl sitting opposite us on the other side of the room got up and walked over to peer inside the car seat to see the baby. Girl, what are you doing? My baby is not a sideshow attraction. Go saddown. Literally.

The same birthing ball I bounced on while I was in labor I now use to soothe little boy. When I'm trying to put him down for the night, I hold him and bounce on it and he loves it. One night bouncing with my son on the ball, I was suddenly overcome with the realization that what my husband and I have done is permanent. Everlasting. Even more lasting than our marriage. God forbid, but a marriage can be undone. Having a child can never be undone. Bringing a new life into the world isn't just OMG, I have a cute baby. He is a living soul. He has an entire life ahead of him.

Postpartum: "Your body will know"

Here I sit, with an apparatus attached to my mammary glands, extracting milk to build up a supply so that people other than me can feed our insatiably hungry little guy. Did you know breast milk can stay good for up to 6 months if frozen? And is this what dairy cows go through day in and day out? Should I moo in solidarity?

One of the things about the whole process of pregnancy, giving birth, and now being a mom is this idea of your body "knowing" things. That your body does things outside of your realm of knowledge, desire or control and that you just have to go with it. That's what I was told about being ready to push right before I delivered our son. "Your body will know when to push." And it was true.

On one hand, your body "knowing" is kind of wonderful. It's instinctual, primal, miraculous. My body knew when I was ready to push. When I felt the urge to push, it was along with my contractions, as if my conscious self and my knowing body worked together. My body knows how much milk to produce for my son. There's nothing I have to do to make sure he gets enough or to make sure he's getting the right nutrients. It just knows.

However, on the other hand, your body "knowing" also indicates that your body has a mind of its own and will do whatever it wants to do without your knowledge or consent. Case in point, my feet still being swollen and not being able to fit into any of my shoes except for some flats I recently bought a whole size bigger. There are things beyond the realm of my control, but one of the things I used to be able to reliably control was my body. But lately (especially when I step on the scale these days), my body has been basically like, "Oh, you thought you were in control? Hahaha...sike." So, I'm stuck with swollen feet, a dark postpartum belly, weird marks in other places (please, God let them fade) and a lot of extra junk, and not just in the trunk.

I know, I should just accept the fact that my body just performed the miraculous a little over two weeks ago and give myself a break. And then here comes my personal trainer brother calling me asking about my postpartum workout plans and talking about some "fasted cardio." Boy, if you don't...

So, although my body and I worked together on the big day, it's continuing to do its own thing. Body, my friend, can we please get back on the same page? Kthxbai.