Not too many days ago, I sat on the floor of Gideon’s
nursery while nursing him. I hadn’t done
that since shortly after his tongue-tie was clipped. I needed the light back then to make sure I
was positioning him right, make sure I was positioning myself right, and to
readjust his latch as necessary. I did
not, however, want to wake my husband by nursing in our room. So every night, several times a night, I
would get up with Gideon and go to the nursery.
Far too often our nighttime excursions were a tear-filled event in which
I braced myself for the dreaded latch-on and everlasting nursing session
brought on by his tongue-tie. I have a
hard time grasping that those days were only a few weeks ago… it feels as
though years have passed.
Gideon’s traumatic entrance into this world still packs a punch that occasionally stops me in my tracks and takes the breath from my lungs. After so many months of falling in love with him, I thought that I had lost him before I had even seen his face. Seeing him for the first time was such a powerful experience, but I felt almost removed from the situation. That feeling of not really being there continued until I sat in the car with him on the day we took him home. The emotional back-log came then. I cried hysterically with joy, sadness, anxiety… so incredibly overwhelmed after not allowing myself to really feel these things. We were taking him home.
I wish that I had called a Lactation Consultant right
then. In hindsight, so much that was so
difficult would have been easier if nursing had gone smoothly. Gideon would not have been constantly nursing
or crying from hunger. I would not have
been in so much pain. Without those two
things, I would probably not been hit so hard with baby blues. I would not have lived for the hours between
my husband getting home from work and going to sleep, his presence being the
umbrella in my storm. I would have been
able to enjoy Gideon the way that I was supposed to. We’ll never get that time back.
Secondly I wish I had had an understanding adult spend time
with me when my husband was at work. I
was so convinced that we needed privacy for myself and Jamie to start bonding
with Gideon and developing some introductory parenting skills. I was incredibly lonely between Jamie going
to sleep at night and coming home from work.
I should have invited people to be with us. Hang out with Gideon while I showered. Alleviate the suffocating loneliness of being
a first time Mom with a newborn.
My whole world started to turn right side up after meeting
with a Lactation Consultant. Gideon’s
tongue-tie was diagnosed. I learned how
to help him get more milk and nurse more comfortably until we could get the tongue-tie
clipped. The sun came out from behind
the clouds that day. I can not express
enough gratitude to my sister-in-law, Patti, Amie Norris, and Lisa Weinshenker, without
whom I would have eventually given up on breastfeeding.
The fading pain of nursing and my advancing babywearing
skills made day to day living less traumatic for Gideon and I. He was so much happier. His contentment made my storm clouds less
frequent. I suppose that this was
probably around the same time that my hormones were finally balancing out after
birth as well.
Now that the majority of the storm has passed, I can enjoy
my son the way that I am supposed to.
Gideon is an awe inspiring little creature. It seems as though he develops new skills on
a daily basis. He recognizes us and
follows us with his eyes. We are rewarded
regularly with big toothless grins that speak for his happiness. He grabs, coos at, and tells off his
toys. He snores, moans, and chuckles in
his sleep. Changing his diaper has gone
from a screaming fit to a game in which he kicks his legs in a frenzy. His neck, back, arms, and legs are so very
strong and every doctor we’ve seen has commented on that.
Every day with my son is more amazing than the last. I am lucky enough to wake up to his face
every morning and fall asleep listening to him breath. When his face lights up with happiness, I
can’t help but smile. When he cries, I
feel his pain. The way he watches me
while he nurses make my heart swell to almost painful proportions.
How is it that I ever lived without him?
No comments:
Post a Comment