Thursday, September 20, 2012

Home. Life.

Well. I finally have both kids in bed, sleeping, for the first time in a week. I love getting this middle-of-the-day break and I have been cranky that I haven't had it for a few days. What am I doing with it? Eating pumpkin pie with double cream, drinking Coke Zero and updating my tired old blog.

This past week has been a doozy. Just crazy. Hard. But let me start back about five and a half weeks. That amount of time ago, I gave birth to our second child. A boy named Daniel. He is the sweetest little thing. And - a boy! We assumed we'd have another girl.

And you know, I was so scared about coping with two kids, but it's been alright. I just get on and do what I have to do. Which is feeding and clothing and bathing and putting to bed. The house is a mess, but I've managed dinner and the children each day, which is all I'm really worried about. So I was settling into this routine-that-isn't-a-routine (because newborns don't follow any sort of schedule) quite well, I thought, until last week.

 Fast forward to the beginning of last week. Our little boy was circumcised on Tuesday night. After much thought and discussion we decided that it was what we wanted to do. He was in a bit of pain that evening and was unsettled all night. I didn't realise how guilty I would feel for doing this 'thing' to him and I felt so sorry every time I changed his nappy and saw his little bloody wad of cotton wool. He also started to show symptoms of reflux that evening. So, that set us up for a week of sleepless nights and cranky days. We bought some reflux formula and that has helped a bit and we've just started on Losec (prescribed) yesterday. Hopefully that will start working in the next day or so.

Sleep-deprived, grumpy, feeling guilty for yelling at our daughter so much and I made the decision yesterday to stop breastfeeding. It was going really well for the first month, but since the reflux showed up, he's been pulling off during let-down and dribbling a lot of milk too, so I end up with a big wet patch. I bored the shit out of everyone I know by asking their opinion on what I should do (quit or keep going when the Losec kicks in) and the most succinct advice came from my Breastfeeding Champion friend (she's had two kids and breastfeeds like a motherfucker, with absolutely no issues - she was made for it): "People breastfeed because it's easier, right? If it's not easier for you, then stop". So that's what I've decided to do. I'm still feeling guilty about this decision - why is it so difficult for me to follow my own advice for others and do whatever works?!

Now, today. I haven't managed to shower in between getting the kids fed, ready to go to the park and holding Dan upright so he doesn't cry. We eventually made it to the park at 11.30. At 12.30, Sophie and I went down the slide together and her foot got caught under my leg. She cried all the way home. She won't stand or walk on it. I've put her to bed for her afternoon nap with some Panadol and I'm hoping she wakes up feeling better.

Right this moment, I can hear Dan stirring. I'm guzzling Coke Zero. I have huge, engorged breasts and I'm putting off the inevitable hand express to ease the pain. My husband left the house at 8.30 this morning and won't get back until 2 tomorrow morning. I'm looking forward to a shower tonight. I have a huge list of things to do and no expectation that I'll get more than one or two things crossed off it today.