What to expect 4 weeks post partum

This has been the hardest month of my life both physically and emotionally.  I'm sitting here, breastfeeding at 6:49 in the morning and listening to Desmond poop after I just changed his diaper.  Billy is sleeping next to me, softly snoring and mumbling something about Christmas.   I envy him his sleep and sometimes...no, very often... I want to shake him awake and have him keep me company while I breastfeed.  There have been early mornings where, after being awake for 4 hours through the night, I hand Desmond over to Billy and put my eyemask on, only to hear Desmond crying 20 minutes later.  I will admit that there have been more than a few mornings that I've been in that situation and had tears in my eyes.  OK...slight exaggeration.  I've sobbed uncontrollably at the unfairness of it all and have thrown my pillow across the room in anger and frustration and have felt that I had made the wrong decision in having Desmond.

Which then ends up making me feel like a really shitty mom.  It makes me wonder if I was one of those people who were hardwired not to be a parent.  It's not that I'm negligent or not attentive...I just love my sleep and I know the type of person I am without it and that's not the type of person Desmond deserves for a mother.  But then, as soon as I finish nursing him and I lie down with him on my chest and he props himself up on his forearms and his head bobbles from side to side as his neck strains to hold his very long head up, he looks directly at me and purses his lips and I melt and think, "this little human being belongs solely to me and I belong to him" and my eyes tear up, this time for happiness.

 

It's no secret that I've had trouble breastfeeding.  The first 3 weeks were very painful, to put it mildly.  I almost dreaded breastfeeding, which led to me hating the fact that I dreaded it, which led to a huge case of resentment towards Desmond.  I can't tell you how many times I was ready to give up and start pumping.  But, two visits to lactation consultants and several hours of researching later, I am starting to not dread nursing Desmond.  I don't love it yet and there are times when nursing him seems like a chore, but there are other times when I look down at how happy and serene he is when he nurses and I vow to keep it up.  

So, one of the things about breastfeeding is that you have to use both breasts equally.  Once you drain one breast you move on to the other one at the next feeding.  When you're feeding 8-12 times a day (doesn't sound like much but when you nurse for approximately 10 minutes and then take 5 minutes to change a diaper and then nurse again for another 10 minutes so that he could go back to sleep), you're spending more than 3 hours nursing.  Add to that the fact that your brain is already mush from lack of sleep and you can't remember which breast you fed him from the last time...there's another stressor added to your day.  Several websites out there suggest doing something, like wearing a hairband around your wrist that corresponds to the side you nursed from last, to help you remember.  There are even some products out there that achieve the same objective. 

But honestly, just reach up and grab your breasts.  When you get ready for a feeding, visually and manually inspect (one should be bigger than the other and one should feel squishier than the other).  For those that are wondering just how squishy squishy is, right after you finish nursing completely on one breast, that breast should feel like a flaccid penis.  Seriously.  Not that I know what a flaccid penis feels like (Mom, I promise!  :)) 

After the initial whoop of joy I gave when I stepped on the scale and found that I had lost 17 lbs, I am becoming disheartened at my weight loss.  I have been at 133-134 for the past 2 weeks.  I know the saying: it takes 9 months to put it on and it will take 9 months to take it off.  I just can't get over the fact that I'm still wearing maternity jeans and, even worse, maternity underpants.  I went to the Gap the other day with a friend to shop for new pants.  I won't name any names because this particular person has to special order her very small pants online.  I, who a year and a half ago was wearing a size 4, couldn't get my jiggly bits into a size 6 boyfriend's jean.  I'm a dumbass for even trying on jeans this soon. 

Ok, that sounds super superficial, but what woman's body image isn't inherently tied to her self-esteem?  I've got love handles now and a jiggly kangaroo pouch and I hate the fact that I look like I've let myself go.  So, word of advice to all you ladies out there who are pregnant...expect this.  Don't think you could whip out the bag of clothes you stored in the basement when you began showing.  Leave it down there.   Don't even tempt yourself.  Just focus on the fact that this will be the only time in your life when you could eat what you want and not exercise and STILL lose weight because you're breastfeeding all the time. 

 Belly 4 weeks post partum...

I've finally stopped bleeding!  My lady bits aren't swollen anymore (thank GOD) and I figure that's a good sign that my sex life could be resurrected (sorry, Mom...but you DO want us to have 3 or 4 more kids, right???)  Since I'm breastfeeding, the prolactin levels in my body have increased, which helps to dry everything out where it counts, which is a good thing, I guess, since you don't want to get carried away and get pregnant when you're caring for an infant.  Otherwise, it means that I'll have to go to the pharmacy section of Smith's and hover over the condom/lube section of the store, feel hopelessly embarrassed, and pick out a brand of lubricant that I hope will work. 

 I'm intrigued...and the commercials for this brand are pretty funny. 

Thankfully, I didn't tear during the delivery, so the prospect of having sex again doesn't terrify me. 

Also, plan on it taking you an hour longer than you expected to leave the house.  So, if you have class at 11am on a Friday morning, get your ass out of bed at 9 and get everything ready to go by 10:40.  You'll need that extra hour.  Believe me.  If it's not a last minute nursing to help put your child to sleep before you strap him into the carseat, it's driving 6 blocks before you realize that you forgot the sling and have to head home to retrieve it, or your child poops out of his diaper, ruining his cute white old-man pants (which is why, I have learned, you should always keep an extra set of clothes in your bag for the baby). 

I have also developed a high tolerance to bodily fluids.  In our bed alone, there are remnants of baby puke, breastmilk, baby pee, and maybe some watery baby poo stains in the sheets.  Do we change them out every time this happens?  No way.  A few years ago, when I saw my friend Annie changing her daughter's poopy diaper, I wondered how in the world she managed not to vomit all over the place.  She shook her head and told me that you don't care about it when it's your kid.  And it's true...it's like Desmond's urine and feces and vomit are as innocuous as saliva.  

When Desmond peed up the front of his diaper...

To end on a good note (finally), I am happy to report that I've fallen off the wagon!  Yes, I've had a few drinks and it has been wonderfully blissful.  I bought some Chaource cheese from Caputo's and Billy bought a small bottle of champagne and we sat in our living room and ate cheese and drank champagne to celebrate our new parenthood.  I had two glasses and was feeling allllllright.  I slept beautifully that night.  At the LLL meetings, one person (and I have been this one person) will inevitably ask whether or not it's ok to drink while breastfeeding and whether or not you should use one of those strip stick tests that tells you whether your breastmilk should be dumped or not.  Christy gives a great answer: if you can't follow the instructions on the box very well or if you can't adequately look after your baby, you shouldn't be breastfeeding.  But one or two drinks won't get your baby drunk or cause irreparable damage.