10 Days with a Newborn - Day 3 - Let the Roller-Coaster Begin

Disclaimer: I am in no way a medical professional or a mothering guru. Everything I write is in relation to my journey as a mother experiencing mother-like things. If you need any kind of help/guidance, please seek the assistance of a professional.

And yes, there may be sound bad language in this post.

Day 3 - Let the Roller-Coaster Begin

This is the day shit got real. The day my baby became a baby, and not just a cute lump.  

It started off chaotic, but in a happy way. My sister, along with my brother and his family, all came over to meet little Sammy. People were everywhere; all wanting a piece of her and yet not wanting to ‘be too much’ for me. Problem is, when you’re that soon into parenthood, just their presence alone is a bit ‘too much’. It’s not that you don’t love them being there and meeting your freshly brewed spawn, it’s just that your standard way of living has been so upturned that even just having visitors seems overwhelming. It was lovely to see my teenage nieces gush at the baby, though, my eldest niece surprisingly comfortable as she held Sammy. When I was a kid I was terrified of babies. They seemed so breakable with their floppy necks and squishy heads! 

Soon after they left the first of the midwife visits occurred. Turned out Sammy had already sprung back to her birth weight. The midwife was very impressed, and I puffed my engorged (my milk had come in) chest out proudly. Ooh yeah, I’m a Good Mum. Fat little baby coming right up! As I patted myself on the back, the midwife brought me crashing back down—Sammy had a tongue-tie. 

I went from Good Mum to Oh-I’m-So-Fucked Mum. 

Noooooo! Not again. My first had a tongue-tie and it nearly destroyed me. She tore my poor little nips to shreds, and it was the most excruciating thing I’ve ever been through—including the two labours! Labours come and eventually go. Breastfeeding on damaged nipples is torture every 2-3 hours for months on end! I had some nipple damage with Sammy so far, but nothing compared to Evie, and I figured it was all due to Sammy’s ‘learning phase’ of breastfeeding. Plus, not to gloat, but I had an endless supply of our Boob Balm, and it was doing a wonderful job of healing things up quickly! So, I wasn’t much bothered by the damage at all. But I’d learnt my lesson the first time around; no way was I breastfeeding another baby with a tongue-tie. The second the midwife left I was calling specialist GP’s to have it cut. Mean Mum. Sammy was booked in for a few days’ time. Guilt-Ridden Mum. I’d just have to withstand the damage till then. Self-Sacrificing Mum

The afternoon came with better news—I did a poo! Oh yes, the notorious first poo was done and dusted. Winning-at-Life Mum! I was returning to normal. I was slowly remembering how to do this newborn phase. I had the tongue-tie snip booked in and Sammy was sleeping like a dream with us on the couch. I could do this. It wasn’t going to be like last time. I was experienced now. I was going to be fine. Crushing It Mum—

Sammy cried all night. 

I shushed, I bounced, I rocked, I cuddled, I fed her, I changed her, I begged her, I teared up, I all-out cried. From 10:30 at night till 4 in the morning. Bad mum. Very, Very-Bad-At-This Mum. I desperately tried to remember all my tricks from my first time around. The five S’s—shushing, swaying, sucking, swaddling…crap, what was the fifth S? Maybe if I could just remember the fifth S my baby would sleep. Please sleep. Please just sleep. You need sleep. I need sleep. Please, I’ll do anything. Just. Stop. Crying. Just. Sleep.

Hanging-By-A-Thread Mum!

Read Day 1 - The Hospital

Read Day 2 - Home Again