Chez Moi

So my ickle baby is two weeks old today. Unbelievable! She so doesn’t seem like the baby we brought home from hospital on 15th September. She has become darker and for a while, tinier. Shrunk in size, somehow. But for the past two days, she is slowly starting feel less like a  tiny mite. I am still scared shitless of dropping her or not being careful enough with her delicate neck.

So what have I learnt about my daughter in the past two weeks?

One - she is wide awake for a newborn. That same evening of her birth, she drew gasps from everyone by being open-eyed and staring at everyone. As the days go on, she is staying awake for longer and seems to want to drink everything in.

Two - her brother’s her favourite person already. She turns her head to follow his progress around a room. Her eyes open wide like saucers when he comes into her line of vision. When he’s home, she prefers to sleep in the living room, amidst the din he creates rather than in the quiet confines of her room.

Three - She has started experimenting with her cries already. There’s the eyes closed tight, face becoming red bellow for food, the impatient growling as she unsuccessfully roots and there are the smaller plaintive cries, to tell us she is awake and would some one get her NOW.

Four - She makes such faces when she’s asleep! You can see her eyeballs moving under her closed lids, eyebrows raising and falling and mouth moving soundlessly as she carries on some imaginary conversation in her sleep. She also smiles a lot to herself, has even giggled once or twice, much to her brother’s wonder.

Five - She shows such anger already! When she’s hungry, her arms start flailing like windmills on overdrive, knocking over anything that’s in the way. When she’s wearing mittens, she looks like a boxer getting ready to punch the opponent’s lights out.

Her brother’s already started pestering me when she will crawl / walk / talk. Talk about a pair of impatient siblings!

P: Mummy, what is nipple cream?

One of the top reasons any parent gives for going in for child #2 is for the child to have siblings and to understand and appreciate the bond. Spouse, friends, other family members are all fine but a sibling has a special place in one’s life indeed. After all, there’s no one else who shares the same background as you, who can understand where you might be coming from, considering theirs is the same.

I had longed for my son to have a sibling of his own. When he was around three, the way he used to interact with a friend’s daughter, who’s exactly a year younger than him used to fill my friend and I with this glow. Barely a foot himself, he used to guide her tricycle with a hand behind her seat and another one holding on to her handle bars. It made both of us go “awww!” and the friend to state “oh he’d make a fantastic big brother, di!” I agreed with her whole-heartedly.

P is such a sensitive, protective soul, the absolute best big brother material.

And in one week, I have seen instances of it that has made my heart sing and had my friend not in Chennai now, would make her say “I told you so” with much glee.

So we wanted to go for a walk on Sunday afternoon, to enjoy some rare end summer sun. “Let’s get her buggy out and we can all go for a walk, P - you can even ride your bicycle if you want!” suggested I. But no. “No mummy, let’s not do that, all my older friends will be playing and they might harm the baby!”, says my baby!!

The other night, he was watching telly while the baby was lying next to him staring at nothing in particular. Or so we’d thought. P looked at her and decided she was watching telly too, which was a big no no. Before any of us realised what was happening, he took off at a rapid clip, went to the crib, selected one of the brightly coloured animal toys and plonked it next to her, away from the telly, thus distracting her! Clever boy or what?

Then last night during dinner, he was sitting on the sofa and the baby was on awake, right next to him. Suddenly, there was a squeal! “Mummy look, the baby smiled at me. Look she is smiling at me!” Sure enough, she had a dopey grin on her face but her brother sported a bigger one.

Let’s hope this mutual love lasts.

…. two lots of 2.5 hours of sleep,

interspersed with,

… two lots of marathon feeding sessions,

that lasted for 2 hours each time

including three nappy changes.

All conducted to the background score of ‘Snoring in E Major’, rendered by Hubby.

Misanthropic is too mild a term to describe my current status.

“Breastmilk is the best!”, chanted the ad for a popular formula milk as I was busy washing out the baby bottles in soapy water. Was it mocking me? “How apt!”, piped in the hubby, unhelpfully.

Breastfeeding was not going off well. Granted, I had a rocky time of it last time too but this time, day 2 seems to have got me down on my knees. By the time night rolled in on day 2, I was begging for some pain relief, in the form of formula, to give my aching tits a break. Was that the end of it? Hell, no! Having two bottles and a two days old infant meant, instead of being up all night feeding the baby, I was up washing and sterilizing the blessed things. Sleep deprived, tired and feeling wooly-headed meant I wasn’t a happy bunny.

Day 3 brought in more woes, along with the milk, which resulted in some extremely engorged boobies. I now knew what the likes of Jordon and Jodie Marsh possessed and it wasn’t a happy feeling. This brought in a catch-22 type situation with it. Too full for the baby to be suckle but unless she does, situation will not improve. Deep joy. To top it all, I was absolutely sure we were falling at the first fence - latching on.

Asking for help from assorted midwifes and nurses didn’t help things much as they were all more or less dispensing the same advise via phone and it was all getting me nowhere fast.

Day 5 brought in some relief in the form of a midwife bathed in divine glow. She not only talked to me and
answered my questions patiently, she saw where I was going wrong and showed me how to get the baby to latch on properly, how to see if she was full and how to keep at it. Bless you, Midwife Sally! Thanks to her, I slept for a massive 3 hour stretch that night!

I so badly wanted to throw in the towel, especially when during the first two days, the breastfeeding brought on afterpains with a vengeance. The only thing that kept me going was the feeling of guilt that stayed with me long after I weaned P. Not because I didn’t have enough milk but because he was such an impatient baby and I an inexperienced ninny, who didn’t realise what a fantastic thing it was to breastfeed your baby. sigh. I want to go the distance this time - let’s hope I can.