We have emerged out of the fourth trimester and quite frankly, I need it written down in black and white that we made it. It was quite the wild ride, but we survived.
You try and prepare as much as you can before having a baby and then naturally it’s the things you didn’t consider that come and get you. I wasn’t prepared for the shock of a fast birth. Of a dramatic delivery. I wasn’t prepared for the ‘journey’ we would go on with feeding: a baby with tongue tie, the horrendous pain of nipple trauma (I’d take labour any day), the inexplicable emotions of breastfeeding or the ordeal that is having your baby repeatedly weighed.
It feels like it would be very easy to linger on how it ‘should’ have been, to replay the traumatic moments over and over in my mind but I want to draw the metaphorical line in the sand. Allow time to process, sure, but I want to be able to look back on the next three months and beyond and say that we did more than just survive.
Baby boy, otherwise known as bubba, slobber chops, milky cheeks, little moth, snuffle piglet, buddy or doodle, smiles at his mama more than anyone else (insert slightly smug face here), refuses to stay still for more than a second, stares very intently and has incredible head control. He loves standing (all the damn time), his feet being tickled, belly kisses, chatting, lights and watching tv on the sly. He’s responsible for my clothes being stained with a whole array of bodily fluids, my camera roll struggling to contain the ridiculous amount of photos of his face and the fact that you can see my eye bags from space but he is an absolute bloody joy and I can’t wait to watch him grow.
Comments