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Regarding what really got under my skin... ugh... it’s the fact that for weeks leading up to it, and months after I gave birth, people kept pestering me about breastfeeding. Like, we run into each other out in public... and there's no "hey, how are you?" or "how's the baby doing?" It's just—poof—"so, are you nursing!"?!?! 😲 🙄 Why do you even care!! 🙂 How does that affect your life? If I choose to breastfeed, I'm doing it for myself, not for the neighbors or some random acquaintances who definitely don't need to be thinking about my chest!! It's ridiculous. It drove me crazy. Now that I've had the baby, I've decided that if anyone asks such a rude question, I'm just going to snap back with the first thing that comes to mind.😠
I was definitely one of those women during my first pregnancy who thought I’d handle everything solo and follow the playbook perfectly... 🙄 Yeah, right.
There’s what you imagine, what you daydream about... and then there's the actual reality of bringing this tiny, demanding creature into your home.
It’s not that I think we’re incapable, unprepared, or unqualified to care for a baby, BUT—and I mean this seriously—there are situations where you just don't have a choice but to call for backup.
When we were expecting our first son, my husband got about a week off from work. Once the little guy and I finally got home, breastfeeding was an immediate struggle... my milk just wouldn't come in. On top of that, my C-section stitches were pulling and getting infected... you can't even sit up, you have to do everything lying down. And sleep? Forget about it. You just... don't sleep. Three or four nights straight where you barely trick yourself into an hour here and there. I was exhausted... panicking about when the milk would show up... wondering if my baby was going to starve. Plus, the kid acted like he had a motion sensor for my every move; the second I tried to head to the bathroom, he’d start screaming his head off. I won't even mention that I couldn't even manage to shower until my mom arrived on day six, because honestly, everything was just too painful and overwhelming for just the two of us. Maybe, I guess, I would have survived (if I hadn't had anyone to call), even if I didn't have help. I'd never let my child suffer. But my entire world would have shrunk down to nothing but nursing him and trying to keep him okay. I might have thrown some food together here and there (and since you need good, nutritious meals to breastfeed, that's important...), but how do you do that when you don't even have time to wash your hair?! I just want to say that it's easy to assume you know how things will go... but I think it's pretty reckless to assume anything until you've actually lived through it.
My mom came over and basically took over the kitchen (cooking when I couldn't, etc.) and handled the cleaning for the first month, too. A woman can't let her house fall apart and become a breeding ground for bacteria while she's struggling to stay afloat with a fussy baby.
After a month, things settled down. But seriously. I get so skeptical when a coworker tells me (before she's even given birth!) that she's going to do everything herself... Sure she will. Unless a hundred things go wrong... and everything goes exactly according to plan.
Why should any woman push herself to the breaking point if she doesn't have to? A rested, well-fed mother is a better mother. Someone capable of watching, feeding, and caring for their child. A sleep-deprived mother living on sandwiches is definitely going to be less effective. 🤷