Join Date: Jun 2005
Location: wandering around.... with an aim.
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Ok, I'll go first, please be nice (but honest)because this was somehow hard to write.
The baby came home from the hospital today. He was supposed to be born at home, but things often don't go as we planned. It took a while for my dissapointment to transform into acceptance, but i am simply glad that my baby boy is now here.
We are home now, he is sleeping in the cradle my dad made for him. The incision makes it impossible for me to wear him around the house, close to my body just yet. He sleeps for over six hours, i continually check to make sure he is still breathing. This cradle nap was meant to be of short duration, but he had different ideas.
when he wakes , he is ready to nurse. We settle into the comfy armchair and he attatches himself to me. Head back, i rest my arm on the firm nursing pillow beneath it.
we sit in that position for hours, only getting up when narure calls, or it is time to put the warm goldenseal compresses on the angry cut that some people call a smile.
people file in and out, bringing me food, ice cream and plenty of fennel seed tea. I stay in the chair. skin to skin, i am attatched to my baby boy..
Turned in towards his mother, he shuts out the world beyond. Forever suckling, never greedy--only gently allowing drops of milk to pool on his rosebud lips.
I hated the insision, so much that i wouldn't even look at it, let alone keep up with its care. My partner had to keep reminding me until , eyes shut, i allowed him to place the steaming , wet towel against my lower belly. With only slight infection setting in on the left side, it eventually healed and i was able to lift my baby without assistance.
He never took to the sling, so i held him in my arms all of the time. It's amazing how heavy ten pounds can be when you never put it down.
As he cried every night at dinnertime, i finally figured out that the best way to sooth him , save breastfeeding, was to swaddle him tightly with his arms pinned to his sides. with that ,and a little boob, he quieted right down and went to sleep.
The baby came home from the hospital the other day and i still feel disoriented. The piles of cloth diapers, waiting to be washed. The stacks of books beside the chair and the precious new life being cradled in my arms.
I can't help but think how different things would be if i had birthed my baby into his home. There would be a sense of victory, of empowerment.
My boys birth was as it was supposed to be, i comforted myself with that thought. I once again settled into my chair and felt the delicious pull of his mouth on my breast. Things were as they were supposed to be.
Whatever will be, already is...