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Naptime in January

It took me almost 30 minutes to get my girl to nap today.  Everytime I thought she'd settled, she'd start to try to tear my shirt off and bury her face in my chest.  It's seemingly code for "I'm hungry" but I learned last week - after giving in a couple of times - that she nurses herself to sleep in a matter of minutes if she does this.  I'm not really into "non-nutritive" nursing.  I'd prefer we bond by playing together, or napping together.  Nothing annoys me more about breastfeeding than her "snacking."

So I get a moment to post!  And I am super cabin feverish.  I need to send this carrier pidgeon out into the world to remind myself I still exist outside the four walls of our living room (which are closing in on me as they pile up with kid crap).  Don't get me wrong, I LOVE our daughter.  I'd prefer to love her in 60 degree weather at a park though than under several feet of snow.  I pushed her stroller in the parking lot of our neighborhood because I just had to get out of the house.  She is still a newborn and - because it's flu season - we decided not to take her out in public until she is 6 weeks (apparently that's outside some arbitrary limit that if you take a baby to a hospital for the flu then she'll be forced to get an epidural and a 10 day stay.  Something like that).

I have a lot of feelings about being at home with a newborn, unfortunately that tend to well up in the evening when I'm teary tired and one red glass of wine in.
  • Happy with the decision to not return to teaching until next school year, but missing adult interaction.  
  • Jealous that my husband gets to go to work AND buy meals at lunchtime (I know the lunch thing will end soon when I can start taking her in public).  
  • Grateful that my parents have visited almost every single day since my husband returned to work.  And brought food.  Oh and don't forget grateful for my incredible husband too!
  • Unmotivated to get dressed in anything other than a nursing tank and elastic pants.  
  • Scared I won't know how to handle a newborn in public, which could mean 6 more weeks of winter. What if she cries?  Where will I breastfeed?  How will I fit in a pumping session when she eats constantly?
  • Afraid I've become something less feminist than my former self, and simultaneously disappointed that I feel that way.
The not so novel thing is that my feelings are mirrored everywhere.  I'm reminded daily that everyone got on this planet somehow and that the newborn stage is difficult for all.  For example, I'm watching the episode of SATC in season 5 where Miranda has Brady and comes to the realization that her relationships and life are different now.  Not 20 minutes earlier, I was watching a new Jillian Michael's reality show where Heidi - Jillian's partner - is crying because Jillian is off travelling while Heidi is taking care of the kids at home.  And there's nothing Jillian can do differently, it's just a stressful time for all involved.

But then I'm reminded with a baby smile or a squeal that she and I are bonding and learning together.  And something my birthclass teacher said always resonates with me.  As cooped up as I may feel, the baby has no one but us - my husband and I.

When I think about that, I remember what an important job I have taken on.  Definitely puts things into perspective.


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