The obvious one is milk, in my case breastmilk. It's already become second nature to latch her on and I'm becoming a dab hand at multi-tasking: one-handed typing; propping Baby Badger on a pillow so I can eat my cereal; and this morning even found myself walking round, one arm supporting her, while I filled my handbag ready to go out. A month ago I wouldn't have thought it possible, but although I've become accustomed to breastfeeding, it doesn't mean that a break wouldn't be nice. Last night was actually the best so far - after her last evening feed at around 11:30, Baby Badger woke up at 4:30 and again at 7:30 - hurrah! One night, however, has not made up for the last two months of sleep deprivation so tonight Father Badger is giving me a break of sorts: he's doing the night feeding. I've spent a few sessions over the last day or so pumping and feel strangely proud of having produced over 200ml (about 8oz), which should do two feeds. I will of course have to wake up some time in the early hours to feed her otherwise I'll end up rather uncomfortable and leaky (!), but two lots of four hours sleep in one night will be heaven...
As they say, what goes in must come out. Wet nappies are hardly a trauma, although I guess if Baby Badger had been born a boy it might have been more hazardous [or perhaps the stories of dodging arcs of pee are merely urban myth - can anyone confirm?]. It's the other stuff... Another thing that I wouldn't have believed a few months ago - it's actually not that bad dealing with baby poo, and I'm told that's at least partially because breastfed baby poo is much nicer (or should that be less smelly) than formula-fed baby poo. It's only bad when it comes out in quantities that shouldn't be able to emerge from such a small body! Father Badger stumbled upon the perfect term for this: poo-nami, like a tsunami but made of... you get the picture. Baby Badger seems to store up several days worth, then let rip in one go! If we're lucky, we notice the first batch, and during the nappy change the rest comes out like lava erupting from a volcano. The scientist/child in me is fascinated by the volume (whilst yelling "eurgh" very loudly). If we're unlucky, we don't notice until the sheer volume starts to force open the leg holes on the nappy. Fortunately that's not happened too often and usually results in one of us holding a wriggly baby while the other hoses her down with the shower. Quite effective but it does take a tag team effort.
The last type is tears. Occasionally Baby Badger's if she's crying inconsolably, but more often mine. Don't get me wrong. Life is not bad, and I'm pretty sure I'm not depressed as I can laugh at the ridiculous and still have the drive to get out and about. The tears come after a few nights of particularly voracious feeding (the 90 minute feeding cycle a few weeks ago was particularly hard). I can wake up in the morning exhausted, but a quick hot shower sorts me out so well that I forget about napping during the day and when it gets to 9 o'clock at night I realise, too late, just how shattered I am.
Did I say the last type of liquid was tears? I was wrong. The last type is tea. How typically British of me, but it's true: the tears are more often than not sorted by a nice cuppa.
Image: Idea go / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Urban myth to be honest. The worst that ever happened is that The Boy got himself in the face!
ReplyDeleteI once had to shower The Boy off after a poo-nami. I don't mean once I'd stripped him off, I actually mean fully clothes! I have no idea how or why it got on the outside of his dungarees and down into his socks but it did and it was traumatic (for me!).
Oh I know the tears only too well, they still happen (mine) and he looks at me now and says "Mummy, sad!" frowns and gives me a hug.
Can't stand tea, give me an espresso frappucino anyday!
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