The trouble with sharing is that there is an audience. And the trouble with an audience for a people pleaser like me is that I start to curate what I say according to my audience, and the line between me and we becomes blurry. And I start to feel like I have to explain myself, and that’s not the point of this blog. But I’ll do my best.
So I wanted to continue from where I left off. Did I mention that there’s an actual website called “Letters to My Ex”? It sounds super therapeutic.
But I just want to write here and say I never in a million years would have predicted that a large bulk of my motherhood experience in these first 7 months would have been…
Drum roll..
BOOBS. yes. The ones that make milk, specifically. The funny thing about all of this is that during my baby shower, this topic came up. And it was a topic that I was not really interested in, because I casually and optimistically figured baby would figure out how to nurse like so and so’s baby did, and we would be good to go. I mean, it was *natural* right? Yes, so natural. Just like childbirth…
And painful! What ended up happening was not at all what I predicted or wanted. I am currently writing this post because I may have forgotten to pump one side, and it is super painful and clogged. Something I did not know was a thing among the many many things that you become intimately familiar with in parenting. But what I meant to say was…
This was one of those instances where God knew and prepared me in a way (although how can you really be prepared?) through all the conversations about breastfeeding during my baby shower. So I wasn’t completely left in the dark.
I’m kind of embarrassed by how ADD my blog posts (and brain) are. But this is just how things flow in there.
Right so, speaking of left in the dark. One of the things that has been really challenging about parenting is the avalanche of marketing, advice, etcetera, that I feel like I have to wade through to make decisions. And it’s a falsehood, really, because I don’t HAVE to, but. It’s horribly tempting because it feels like if I just research the right things and do the right things my life will be simple and not hard and I won’t feel like a chicken with its head cut off. I have bought, so, many, things. I literally have a Target box sitting in my foyer right now with a new wrap that I bought, because I was desperate one day thinking about how baby didn’t like his carrier anymore and growing exhausted. But then I tried it again and he liked it. Why?
That’s the thing about babies, this one especially, is that he doesn’t follow the books.
He wasn’t supposed to make it. But he did. And I’m pretty nervous about his surgery coming up. I’m so nervous I don’t want to write about it. So we have a big week ahead of us.
And my pump time is up.
