Baby Party!

We are having a baby party to celebrate Julian turn one-month old :))

Third Week

Into my third week now. The Cookie has his moments and sometimes I get flustered trying to hush him out of one of his fits. BF is progressing well and I'm making plans on how I can manage BF while on the outs without having to expose one breast to the public eye and juggle shopping and BF at the same time. I'm tempted to try the breast pump. But to do that, I may have to feed him on formula for one day while I pump for the second and introduce him the rubber teat which I imagine, will cause him to forget how to latch.

On that. I find myself going bonkers just thinking about him not on breastmilk but on formula. I am somehow convinced that he'd be missing out on a whole lot of good nutrients and having him on formula will make him a lesser person. I know that's not true and I'm still trying to convince myself out of it. Because how else am I going to head back to work and my exercise regime?

I also imagine that people are trying to sneak in other forms of liquids to him that to an extent, I dream of it happening! Last night, I dreamt I had bought three bowls of yam paste dessert and later found out that my dad had fed one of them to him. At 3.30am, I woke up and realised it's been almost five hours since the last feed and started to worry how much milk supply has depleted and if my dad really did feed him yam paste!

The madness of motherhood.

Yesterday, Joa and I went shopping after a checkup with the gynae. I started getting paranoid over germs in the air and kept checking to see if Cookie was still breathing. Strangers who enquired about him guessed he was about more than a month old. Then when I said he was barely two weeks, you could see this silence that befell on their faces. Like taking him outdoors now was an abomination. And that added to my fears.

We're planning the full-month party, or rather, parties now (we're having three sessions). Getting ready the cakes, caterers and sending out the invites. Friends will come a week later so don't panic if you haven't got it yet.

The Cookie is up. I need to go now.

... wide open

eyes and...
jaws!

Week One

It's been a big week - and a very different one too. Caring for Lil' J was hard work. Trying to decipher his cries was quite another. Struggling to strike a balance and requesting for understanding from well-meaning relatives about my confinement practice was a huge hurdle. Then there was the baby blues which ranged from the common urge to cry irregardless and the extreme end of the pendulum where my mind was flooded with pictures of the baby dead and cold.

Nine days since the night I went into labour and Joa and I had not had an uninterrupted night of sleep. Getting up in the middle of the night to nurse for hours is painful. But I do consider myself lucky to have Joa by my side. He hasn't complained and would always take the initiative to change the wet nappies, or cradle the baby just so I could sneak in cat naps.

Many people has asked me about my labour experience. It hurt like hell but mine was short (3+ hours) and I bore the pain without the epidural. My advice to everyone: get a good gynae, and don't think about the epidural. I did love the gas though. It made me so high that in between contractions, I'd drift into dreamland, forgetting that I was in labour.

Then Lil' J was born. In the midst of my drowsiness, I heard his faint squalling. When they put him on my chest, it didn't immediately register in me that this was my child. 24 hours later, I found myself sleepless in the night so I snuck out to the nursery to take a peek at him. How adorable he was. I felt like a happy mummy.

A lot of people came by to visit with nice hampers and congratulations. My stay at the hospital was enjoyable although not very comfortable. Too noisy and the bed felt too warm.

Then I came home and Mum began fussing about traditional confinement practices, mostly restricting my diet. But thank God i still got to shower - thrice a day; and shampoo - everyday. Relatives came by and warned me about drinking water and not indulging in herbs and tonics (Doctor's orders which they told me not to eat into it). It's funny how they disregard professional advice but take to old wives' tales from old China.

Lil' J is a contented baby for now. I try to nurse him as much as he likes and he's pooping and peeing to his heart's content.

I'm feeling a lot better now although I'm still bored as hell. There doesn't seem to be a routine or anything to look forward to in the day. The baby is one. But it's depressing knowing your movements and eating desires are restricted. Overall, I'm okay, for now.