Monday, December 21, 2015

Mean trick

Having a baby is a mean trick, they lure you in with the promise of a new love, warm snuggles and the beauty of bonding with a little person... What they don't tell you about is... The cruelty.

A defensive, wiggly, unstable human being is going to be pulled from your swollen, exhausted body. Then without a chance to catch your breath or recover you have to work to keep them alive, fed and healthy. You won't be able to walk properly because you need to catch up on the 9 periods you missed, you might even wear a gaping wound if even more cruelty found you out of the delivery room and into the operating room. You can't laugh, sneeze, cough or move without fear of slipping off of your mountain of pads or popping a stitch, but you have to be patient at all hours of the night, because newborn = no sleep. 

You live in fear of bowel movements and wonder if your body will ever be normal again.
Once you've come to terms with the bottom half of your body in disarray, the top half joins the party with engorged breasts, cracked nipples and blisters. Forget walking into a cold room without tears, or hearing a baby cry without soaking through your, ever so sexy,
nursing bra. 

And this is without adding a sibling, a complication or life, because it doesn't stop.

And yet, we do it. Multiple times. 

With that I would love to introduce my newest love...

Zachary is 5 days old and has lived quite a life. He is sweet and cuddly, demanding and exhausting. He is worth every ache, pain and discomfort, but he's maxed out his 'scare Mummy' rights for the next 20 years, I just hope he remembers that during the teenage years.


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