I've learned very incredibly valuable lessons from all three of my kiddos (hence the blog title). I expect I will talk about each of them (the kids, that is, and the lessons they've each taught me). Even Zayden who is only a month old is already enlightening me.
I had many things built up in my head about a new baby, years before he was even concieved. Rationally I knew better. However, I'm more emotional than rational. I envisioned...
-Zayden's birth would be great! A home birth. This was the plan before he had a name. Before he was even a spark in our eyes. (Isn't that something people say?) I hadn't learned about home births until after I had had Lilly (no, sadly, I didn't think about how women had given birth before hospitals) and was sad to have not been able to have that experience. And Lilly's birth had been pretty great even though it was a hospital birth. So this one would be even better. Right? Right?
-I would nurse him. I'd do better this time. It would work this time. Maybe by magic or something...
-I'd cloth diaper from the beginning. Save the world from all those size 1 sposies! I didn't start with Lilly until she was 2. Think of all the trash I sent to the landfills. Think of all the cute, tiny diapers I could put on his bum...
-And of course, baby wearing from day 1. Lilly loved it. I loved it. We'd be great at it!
Zayden didn't get an amazing home birth. In fact, Z's birth wasn't even amazing. I decided my anxiety levels were too high at the beginning of the pregnancy to make ithe homebirth work. I thought for a minute again at four to six months that I might be able to make it work, but I ended up not contacting the home birth midwife in the area after all. It turns out that I'm rather thankful to have been at the hospital. I lost so much blood that my hemoglobin levels when I left the hospital were around 6.9 and I almost fainted... twice. Perhaps the home birth midwife would have dealt fine with that. I'm not sure, but I'm glad to have had the hospital staff that I did. And thirty nine minutes of labor? It didn't have time to be perfect! It was only painful. Extremely, screaminging into the pillows painful.
Nursing him has been such a pain as well! Like literally. I dislike it. His latch is good though he likes to show me how he can do it over and over again instead of just holding still. He likes to nurse. Nurse like he's trying to wrestle a mountain lion. My nipples hurt. And I have a mighty powerful let down so that makes my entire chest tender and causes him to nearly drown on a regular basis. It's not the amazing bonding (how do you bond with a fussy, constantly screaming newborn anyway?) experience that I thought I'd have. Everyone is different and nursing is hard. I thought I learned that the first two times. I didn't. The only thing keeping me going is sheer willpower!
There has been absolutely no time to cloth diaper the mountain lion wrestling, squirmy as all get out, tiny human that has come into our lives. I am lucky to get a sposie on him before he pees all over me, which he's done several times already. I have the cloth. It's cute. It's not getting used. Life goes on.
So, you'd think baby wearing would be easy. Most babies like to be held. Love it, really. Zayden does like to be held, but he doesn't seem to like to be worn. The last couple times I've put him in the Moby he's fallen asleep, but then woke up a short time later, screaming and only stopped when I took him out. He likes to be able to stretch. Not possibly when you are wrapped to your mama.
Please don't think this is a post complaining about my brand new baby. It's not. It's a post about me and my expectations. Me and my experiences. It's me reaching out into the World Wide Web to let others know that if they are feeling these things, they are not alone.
And for a positive not in this not so positive post... The one thing Zayden does really well? Sleep at night. He's an amazing sleeper. Thank God (or Gods... or The Sandman... whatever you'd like)!