And so it begins.
I will spend the rest of my life whining about how I can't believe how quick time passes.
Cheeta is 1 week old today.
This time last week I was laying in a pain medication induced euphoria, wondering where my vegetable broth had gone because food services did not send it up with my "dinner."
So all I got to eat was Jell-O and water.
The doctor was concerned I might throw up after not eating for 30 hours and then the C-section so he wouldn't let me have 'real' food. First time in 8-1/2 months I did not feel stuffed full and I wasn't allowed to eat. (I felt like quoting Bill Cosby: "I once ate a dead frog and didn't throw up.")
It has been a wild week - birth story coming soon - and a good one. We are home and though I don't know what time or day it is anymore we are making it through:
Cheeta likes to sleep in large chunks of time 4-5 hours at once, which make the doctors crazy, but as long as he is eating I can't see the trouble of it. It has made for easier nights for me too, getting up only twice or so. I'm sure it won't last but it's been nice at the beginning.
On the subject of nursing; it is a wonderful thing when Cheeta and I both do our share and everything works. Seems natural and easy and well worth the effort. When one or more parts isn't working the way nature intended, it hurts beyond explanation, my back tenses up so I can't move my head and I wonder what is wrong with formula.
We're still working on it but it was wonderful having my mother most of this week to suggest all the tricks of the trade to get it work properly. And we'll see her again on Thursday for a tune-up.
Cheeta likes to stare intently at the face of whoever is holding him - Tarzan could spend more time just looking rather than dancing, singing and scatting, but I understand his excitement - so we have had some intense bonding moments this week:
He gets a lot of comments on his intent stare and his good behavior.
Cheeta does NOT like wet diapers, but poopy ones are not a cause for crying so we have to keep an eye out for those. I will say, Tarzan is very eager to change a diaper - I have had to do very few so far - and I hope to remind him of that when we reach #4295 rather than #18.
As for me, I go from feeling great to feeling exhausted in a matter of minutes, I haven't had on regular clothes since we got to the hospital a week ago (except to come home in) and I spend a lot of time wondering if I broke the baby already. My steri-strips came off my incision today and it hurt a lot less than I had imagined it would, so that is good. I am not taking much of the pain medicine anymore, but the doctor did load me up with enough pills for a 90-year old. Iron, psyllium, stool softeners, pre-natals of course, and then two kinds of pain meds. I think I'm set.
It's definitely an adventure; some parts are far more intense and difficult than I imagined, others are second nature already. It's work for sure, but it's work I feel comfortable doing.
Far fewer unknowns, now that he is born and here.
This is me, being a mommy.