And I totally agree with this. Maybe even just the first three weeks. I used to watch the clock just to stay sane, at first taking things hours by hour, feed by feed, I would look forward to nighttimes because then I was closer to the worst part being over and then tomorrow would come. I would see the clock and think, oh good it's almost midnight, only a few more hours, I'm halfway there already. And as things gradually got easier I just took things day by day, just constantly reminding myself it won't last forever. Babies are only this small for so long, breastfeeding isn't forever. Sleepless nights aren't forever. However crappy you feel about it there is always and ending somewhere down the line, all you have to do is keep sight of it. Not to say that I wished the time away though. I take pictures of Reegan every day and I cherish those cuddles and the way she looks up at me when I'm talking, and won't take her eyes off me when I'm feeding her. It's difficult but it's still amazing.
I think for me the breastfeeding troubles were the worst part, and just as the sleep deprivation was getting to me, Reegan started to sleep six hours in the night. The first time it happened I woke up five hours after putting her to bed with a start, and started panicking when I saw the clock and counted on my fingers how long she had been asleep. Yes, baby brain has me resorting to finger counting like a child again. I picked her up to try and wake her, which didn't work, so I resorted to a less than gentle nappy change to get her awake. Eventually she did wake up, but by the time she was feeding it had been about five and a half hours. I was terrified that she shouldn't be going this long between feeds and that she might loose weight or become dehydrated or ill if I didn't feed her often enough. But like I said before, Reegan only wakes up on her own terms. After a little reassurance from the health visitor I quickly grew to appreciate the six hours sleeep in the night! Although I still have to get out of bed after three hours to express lest I have a horrible milky accident.
After Reegan had her tongue tie snipped at three weeks old, the breastfeeding troubles started to improve the very next day. And for maybe a week, things were perfect. Until the evening fussy time started. I've heard it called the 'witching hour' before, and it surely is awful, but apparently very normal. But to start with I was stressed out and absolutely convinced that there must be something wrong with my child. Turns out, she is the pooiest baby on the planet (every nappy has poo in it. Literally the only nappy that hasn't been pooey was her very first one when we were still in the hospital. Ironically enough I was desperate for her to produce on the poo front so they would let us go home, and when she eventually did, she never stopped. Can't tell you how many times this mama has been shit on!) So as long as I can help her poo, and use infacol to help with the burpies, fussy time is then just a case of lots of cuddles and walking in circles around the living room with her.
But just as fussy time reared it's ugly head, Reegan started to smile. At three and a half weeks she had the whisper of a smile on her lips, and by almost five weeks she was beaming at me every morning. I have no idea how Rob and I managed to produce this happy little morning person. I don't know where she gets it from. But now at six weeks she is also cooing and making cute little noises that aren't crying. Noises that aren't crying! Hallelujah! Things are definitely easier now. I'm pretty happy, Rob is pretty happy, and majority of the day our little milk monster is pretty contented too.
Hopefully now I can keep up with the mummy blogging, and get it all down beforr I start to forget these precious first weeks! Reegan barely even looks like a newborn now, she's all stretched out and chubby, she's much more alert now and actually has modes other than 'sleep mode' or 'scream until my father's eardrums burst mode'. Just like a proper little baby now!