The Days Are Long But The Years Are Short

That old saying 'The days are long by the years are short' is so fucking true. You just kind of nod your head when you hear it 'yeah, yeah, whatever' but it's true. Oh it's so very true.

Now that the '100 days of darkness' is passed its truer than ever. When you are in that, when you haven't slept more than 2 straight hours in weeks, and your baby is attached to you more hours than she isn't, and day and night mean nothing, you are praying to everything that it will just be over. When you are pacing the hall up and down, up and down, up and down, for hours because your baby won't stop crying, or needs to fart, you are wishing those hours away. But, now that she has hit 6 months, and she is starting to eat proper food, and reaches for things that she wants, or imitates you, or trying so hard to crawl, you are wishing that time would stop, that she wouldn't grow up so quickly, because blink and you will miss it.

It amazes me how fast babies change. I mean, I knew they grew and learnt a lot in their first year, but absolutely nothing prepared me. She does things today that she couldn't do yesterday. And tomorrow she will do even more. Her brain is a little sponge. Absorbing and growing. It's nice and plastic and it's taking everything in. It's wonderful.

I find it hard to believe she is 6 months old. On one hand I can't remember what life was like without her, it's like she has always been here, and on the other hand it feels like no time at all, that it was only yesterday they were laying her on my chest, that she was fast asleep tucked into me while I was confined to my bed for the first night.

And I have changed immeasurably in this six months. I am forever changed. And I don't want it any other way.

I Cry. A Lot.

I came home last night and wrote a whole post about how hard my day had been. I had had a rough week. Matilda is going through some separation anxiety. She is starting to realise that we are separate people, and that I can go away. She is learning about object permanence. Last Monday she started screaming if she couldn't see me, or if I wasn't holding her. She has always been a bit of a Velcro baby, but this was worse. As the week progressed, she got better. By my responding to her, she is learning that I will come back. Today she spent a huge amount of time with her Dad, thank goodness.

It can be really hard when she is like that. It's not just physically exhausting, it's mentally and emotionally exhausting as well. I always have to be 'on'. It got to the point yesterday where if I had had to sing 12345 once I caught a fish alive one more time I was going to scream. I cried a lot when I got home. A lot. I was so tired. She hadn't let me put her in the bath for about 2 weeks, she just screamed. Last night, she cried but she let me put her in the bath and she was enjoying it again, so I let her stay in the bath until the water went cold and I sat there and cried because I was so tired emotionally and physically tired. I let her stay in the bath till the water went cold because I knew when I took her out of the bath and put her on a change table to dress her she would start to cry and I just couldn't handle the crying anymore and when I took her out of the bath and walked into her room she started to cry, because she knew that I was going to put her on her change table. I got her dressed and we went to bed. We have a bit of a bedtime routine, if it's bath night then bath, massage, bit of a play on the bed, book, nurse to sleep. So I took my crying baby and put her on her tummy on the bed and she started laughing and playing. I couldn't believe it. And, I was still crying. Mostly from exhaustion. We read our books and nursed to sleep. She even let me ninja out and eat dinner and watch a whole movie with Jesse. Something that I've only been able to be in recent weeks.

Today was good. Every day is and will be, different. Some days are easier and some days are so fucking hard. Yesterday I felt I was on my own. I felt like not one person understood. That everyone thought I was doing everything wrong, deciding not to go back to work, wearing her in a woven wrap even though it takes a bit of effort to wrap it, because she likes it and it settles her, and that I was being a selfish shit mum (except Jesse) and I was crying about that too. I felt so lonely. I felt like we were a burden. Motherhood is really hard. It's far harder than you ever imagine it's going to be. I cry. A lot. 

Today was good. I got to shower and wash my hair. Something I used to take for granted.

And now my little love is fast asleep next to me. One hand reaches out every now and again just to make sure I'm still here. When I finish writing, I'll roll over and she will snuggle herself into me for the night. And there is nowhere else I'd rather be.

Hey! I Had A Baby! An Honest To Blog

I am hesitant to post this for the risk of offending people. particularly people I love, but I haven't been hiding anything, so if I have offended anyone that wasn't my intention. It's not my business how you parent.This is purely my humble experience. As I say further on, whatever works is the 'right' way. Love is fierce and there is no wrong way to love.

Before you give birth you have all these ideas about how it's going to be. The birth, how you will parent, but, when you give birth and you hold that baby in your arms, this primal mothering urge takes over. I honestly really never had any strong feeling either way about giving birth. If it happened naturally, great! If it happened via c-section, great! But, I didn't really expect to have the week of drama leading up to the birth of my daughter.

She was measuring big. We knew this. I had lots of scans to monitor it. There was a risk of shoulder dystocia. When, at my 38 week scan she was in the 97th percentile, I knew I'd be having a c-section. I saw my absolutely wonderful OB a few days later. He laid it all out for me. What would happen if he let me labour naturally, if he induced me, or c-section. Jesse and I had already discussed it. C-section. We didn't want a traumatic birth experience. We didn't want her head to come out and her shoulders get stuck, resulting in injury to me and her. We would rather the surgery and the scans be completely wrong and she be a tiny wee thing. So, we booked it in. We left his office on Tuesday morning to prepare for our Wednesday afternoon birth. Just after we got home I got a call saying the hospital couldn't fit me on the surgical roster until Friday. Phew, that gives me a few more days to prepare. My anesthetist wanted to meet me, so Wednesday I go in to see him. I have an anomaly in my back that he freaks out about. I can't find any of my x-rays about it. He is concerned about giving me an epidural and wants to put me under general. He sends me for a CT scan the next day at the only place that can fit me in. A hospital 45 minutes away. I've been in tears for a day thinking I'm going to miss the birth of my baby because I'll be under general. Plus, my 8 year old rabbit is dying. On Thursday Mum drives me to my appointment and waits for me. Then drives me home to wait for the vet to euthanize Major Tom. The results come back and everything is ok, my anomaly won't be a problem I can have an epidural. Phew. The vet comes and I say and emotional goodbye to the companion of the last 8 years. My mum takes him to be buried at my folks house. My dad digs him a little grave and marks it with rocks. I am so exhausted by this stage, but also excited because tomorrow I get to meet my little girl. In the end we have an amazing birth experience. I was so relaxed and ready. She still got stuck. Forceps were used. But she was here. All 4.23kg of her. And it was love at first sight. Duh.

I never had any ideals about feeding. Only that I wanted to breastfeed. I had no idea feeding schedules existed, I was just going to feed my baby when she wanted. I know now this is called demand feeding. We had a lot of issues at the start. Matilda lost over 10% of her body weight. There were tears. Lots of tears. from both of us. Two visits to a lactation consultant, and laser therapy of my nipples, and we finally got it. It clicked for both of us, and my bubba started eating. I thought breastfeeding would come easy. After all, it's a natural function. That's what boobs are for, to nourish babies. But no. It's fucking hard. I had no idea what to do, Matilda had no idea what to do. But, I was determined to give it everything. I was not going to give up unless someone said to me 'Your baby will die if you do not give her formula'. So I fed her every 2 hours. And then expressed and topped her up. This meant that almost all of my days and nights were feeding or pumping. But, it was so worth it. And now, I flop one out, and she puts it in her mouth herself. All those issues seems so far away.

I practice what I have come to know is called attachment parenting, but I prefer to think of it as conscious or instinct parenting, as that is exactly what I am doing. I am following my instincts and giving my baby what she needs. What she tells me she needs. It's so primal, this feeling. That I know what she needs and wants.

She slept pretty well in her little bassinet by our bed for a while. Once we got over the feeding issues and she wasn't hungry all the time she would sleep well in there. Fall asleep on my breast and transfer easily. I had no idea that was frowned upon. And why? It seems so natural! I never entertained the idea of putting her to sleep any other way. She started to become harder to settle in there, so I would bring her into our bed, putting her in the crook of my arm so that nothing could happen to her. Curling into a ball around her, terrified I was doing something wrong. She settled instantly. She felt she was safe. A quick check with Jesse and we decided that bed sharing was for us. We both love it, and Matilda sleeps wonderfully. We side lie feed now, so neither of us really wakes. Once we started doing this I realised how natural it felt. This is what I should have been doing. Researching I found that lots of cultures sleep like this. When did we decide not too?This is surely how our ancestors slept. Why should I struggle for hours on end trying to get her to sleep in a crib when all she wants is to be where she feels safe? And leaving her to cry it out is not an option. I understand it works for lots of families, and that's great. I can't do it. It goes against every single instinct I have. She used to cry in the car. The whole journey, inconsolable, gut wrenching crying. And I would cry right along with her. I don't believe crying it out teaches them to self sooth. I believe it teaches them learned helplessness. That, sure, they can cry, but no-one will come for them, so why bother. Crying is how they communicate. If you're thirsty is the night you get up and get a drink, they can't do that. They need their caregiver, so how to get their attention? cry. Anyway, none of this is an issue for us with bed sharing. she doesn't ever cry. She helps herself to boob during the night, and we are all better rested, and less stressed because of it. .

I see a lot of myself in my daughter. I never slept well. I also slept in my parents bed, or on their floor, well into my teen years. I really only started sleeping well after I met Jesse. I also need another warm body to sleep and to feel safe. I believe that we have created a calming environment. Jesse has mentioned his anxiety has been way down since we started sleeping like that. There is something incredibly powerful about sleeping as a family unit. It's a lovely thing, to wake up in the morning to your daughter babbling away to her dad (who is usually fast asleep).

Also, Matilda is a high needs baby. And that's ok, I don't mind. (most of the time) she needs us to feel safe. So we give her what she needs. This won't ruin or spoil her. This will teach her that we will always be her safety. She will get independent, and venture further from us, always knowing that we will be there when she needs us. I have this with my parents, I've realised now more than ever. They are my safe port (obviously Jesse is too, that goes without saying) My parents still respond to my needs and give me the love and support I need now, well into my 30's.

We have recently started Matilda on solids. She was showing all the signs of readiness. I opted for what is called 'Baby-led weaning' which is basically just giving them food off our plates. No purees. Again, this seemed so natural to me. Of course she wants to eat what I'm eating. So, I give her whatever i'm having. And she loves it. She is learning all about textures, about flavours, about how different foods feel in her hand and in her mouth. She has learnt to chew. Just this morning, we were eating yoghurt and she was watching what I was doing with my spoon, and trying to copy me. I follow her lead. When she tells me she has had enough, I don't force her to have more. I overheard a woman at one of our classes telling another mother how she force feeds her baby purees, because 'He just turns his head away'. Seems like a lot of effort to me. Babies are born with the inbuilt ability to know when they are full. They eat when they are hungry and stop when they are full. We are taught not to listen to our hunger cues. We are taught to finish what's on our plates. I had to relearn how to eat when I overcame my eating disorder. I had to relearn my hunger cues. I don't want Matilda to go through what I went through with food. I want her to enjoy food. And have a good relationship with it. And I feel that I am building that by what I am doing.

They don't lie when they say it takes a village to raise a child. I couldn't have made it through those first few weeks without mine. Jesse has taken to fatherhood like a duck to water. He is so wonderful. My parents have been invaluable. They drove me around so much in those first six weeks, dad kept our freezer stocked with food, and Mum, well, mum did everything from walking Kransky to forcing me to nap. My sister who 100% understood everything I was going through. Reassuring me that what I was feeling was normal and even recently reminding me that choosing not to go back to work was actually ok even though it means Jesse and I will struggle financially, that actually it's totally worth that. My best friends for commiserating and making me feel like a queen.

I get that not everyone will agree with the way I parent. Or that lots of people will have had success with the methods that I disagree with, and that's great. If it's worked for you, then great! I am genuinely happy for you. There is no one size fits all model, especially when it comes to babies. At the end of the day you have to do what is right for you. At the end of the day, whatever works is the best thing to do. I am certainly no expert. And I kind of also feel a bit 'what right do I have' about writing and posting this. But, I also feel I might like to have read a post like this when I was pregnant. In fact, I wish I had come across all the things about attachment parenting when I was pregnant. It was eye opening to me. It made me realise I wasn't wrong for wanting to do what my instincts were telling me to do.

Matilda has a quote from the Roald Dahl book 'Matilda' on her wall that reads 'Never do anything by halves if you want to get away with it. Be outrageous. Go the whole hog. Make sure everything you do is so completely crazy it's unbelievable.' My wish for my daughter is that she lives by this. That her life motto is 'Be outrageous.' and I like to think I am helping her on that path.

Welcome!

Hi There!

You may remember me from such blogs as The Icing On My Cupcake. Well, I've changed and grown a lot. I even had a baby! So I thought a shiny fresh new blog was in order. I'll be migrating some of my favourite posts from TIOMC over here in the coming weeks, and making this one look all nice and pretty, but I am also very impatient and wanted to get this one going! So here it is. Enjoy!