Wow, weaning? It is a kick-in-the pants, huh? Why does nobody talk about this? I mean, they talk about everything else to do with pregnancy:
The bloody show, The ripping, the stitches, The giant hospital panties you have to wear for a month afterwards while you continue to bleed. (Actually, since “they” do talk about it, I was prepped for this, and I had some very stylish “Depends Silhouettes”. LOL!)
They talk about that the initial latch might be difficult, they talk about cracked bleeding nipples, they talk about mastitis.
They talk about every possible horror that might occur during you pregnancy, but nobody talks about THIS.
Maybe it’s karma. I had the happiest and most blessed pregnancy ever, I have never felt happier or sexier. I did have Achilles tendinitis, and it hurt to walk a bit, but it didn’t slow me down. I walked 10 miles the day I went into labor. I ate mussels and had ONE beer with my parents. My birth was a smooth and fun experience. Paul played me the guitar, we ate popsicles. I only threw up once.
The aftermath wasn’t bad at all. I did tear a fair amount. Evie was breach, but we got her to turn. But she came out like superman, like the super baby she is, one arm up and over her head. She ripped that placenta in half, she was so ready to join the world. Maybe she will be impatient like her mummy. It was all good, I did need a small transfusion and antibiotics, but Evie was immediately an angel. Even that first night, she slept for 4 hours straight – and did we. The only difficulty I have ever had was that first weekend when I had mastitis – and constipation because of the Vicodin they give you in hospital. (Don’t get me going on how much I hate Western drugs!) I lay on the bed in tears because the slight breeze coming in from the window felt like daggers on my nipples. I can only be thankful that Paul didn’t belittle me in any way. He took me pain as his own, and I gave him the number for a lactation consultant. She was one of the many guardian angels I have found in this life. She agreed to see me, after hours, at her own home on a Friday night. When Paul drove me there, she took one look at my tits and told me “Oh my dear. Those aren’t right”. I will never forget what she did for us that night. Never ever. I need to write to her again. I took Evie in a few weeks later, but I should do so again. This photo was taken in her bed. She had been massaging my tits for at least half an hour (maybe even an hour) and showing Paul how to do it, to get the blocked ducts unblocked, before she finally asked me “What’s your name, dear?” We both laughed 🙂
You know what, this probably IS karma, and I shouldn’t complain. I did, and do have a blessed child. I can deal with this weaning. But fucking hell, it kicks you in the teeth. Dona, you did try and warn me. This is the worst emotional rollercoaster I have been on since I was a kid. Any advice? Anyone?
Maybe it wouldn’t be busting my arse so badly if life wasn’t so allover shit right now? I am STILL sick. Trump STILL won the election. Work is busy. Thanksgiving is shit (not Paul’s family – they are awesome, but there was too much travel, United lost one of our bags, Amazon missed a delivery, I am too sick to get out of the house and walk).
But shit, I went there again – count your blessings Dobner! Man UP!! Are you a man or a mouse?
Hey, Claudia, maybe I just need to wallow right now. It is 6am and I have insomnia. I’m exhausted but can’t sleep. I will fix myself tomorrow. Just hold me right now. mkay?
Oh, and shoot – the title wasn’t a typo. I wish I was Irish right now, and I could be keening, instead of just whining 🙂 xoxox