Sunday, January 22, 2012
Dear Boy (3 weeks old)
You are now three weeks old. I was giving you a cuddle this afternoon, with you all curled up in my arms, and I was trying to figure out how not so long ago you fit inside my belly. How was that even possible?
Your dad and I are still trying to figure you out, to cope with so little sleep but everything is finally starting to feel like the new normal. At the very least, I'm not crying so much because I don't know what you want, what's wrong, how to soothe you, how to help you fall asleep. In fact, I haven't cried once in last few days. We now have a little schedule, a pattern to our days that seems to suit you okay and not drive us too mental. I don't feel so anxious, so guilty, about how we're feeding you (although that's still up in the air and not so easy) or when you don't fall asleep and need to be cuddled on my chest rather than laying in your bassinette. The Child Health nurses are all happy with you and your weight gain, so we seem to be doing okay.
In the last week, you've started to look at the toys we put into your eye line and somehow manage to roll onto your side when we're trying to change your nappy. These of course, make you a superstar as well as very difficult to change.
For me, most of your days are measured in small victories. Having a shower and getting out of my pajamas is the biggest one, but others are taking you for a walk in your pram, getting us all to an appointment on time, getting a cumulative five or six hours of sleep a night, having visitors over, accepting help, managing to keep in contact with family, staying calm when I talk to the insurance people over the phone... All of these add up and help make me feel like I'm not a complete failure as a mum. So what if I ran out of nappies last night and had to hightail it to the supermarket for more? I tidied up my desk and sorted out the mountain of paperwork we've accumulated since you were born. See... victory.