Another cold day in paradise
Benjamin has been very good today. Mind you, we’re coming up to arsenic hour shortly so who knows (i.e. any time between 6 & 11pm when he doesn’t want to settle but we’re all learning how to deal with that and to read when he’s getting over tired). With the cold weather we’re venturing out later and later in the day, spending our mornings all cosied up in the dual heating zones of our apartment watching the weather roll in and the waves crash onto the shore. The antics of the Maine geese and cockatoos are keeping us amused throughout the day as well. They’re making a mess of the croquet lawn though.
Time to give the breasts a rest for a few hours. Whoever said that breast feeding is completely natural and pain free isn’t obviously talking about the first 3 months! The pain is nowhere near as bad as it was after the first few days (probably something to do with the heavy painkillers I was on after the Caesarian which meant that I didn’t really pick up on how chewed my nipples were getting until I started weaning myself off them). So they’ve toughened up somewhat but they still get a bit of a workout.
I admired my new tiger striped self in the mirror today – a lovely legacy of symmetrical stretchmarks between my waist and hips – which I thought about showing off in my bikini in the indoor lap pool today, but then I thought better of it. God knows what came over me. Exercise! God forbid. Although I suppose I’ll have to do something to tone up the post partum belly. The waist has come back (phew, I thought it was gone forever) but need to get rid of the extra hips and thighs. Not as happy with my enormous bosoms though – they do get in the way of running and even turning over in bed. I just don’t know what to do with my arms now. And when Gary asked if this meant I wouldn’t want a boob job now, he’s right! Not that I’ve ever seriously considered getting one – except of course if they end up going to my knees after breastfeeding!
Knowing I was going to give Ben a bottle for his next feed meant that I could have my first cocktail in months (well, 3 months). Wasn’t too happy with the resultant alcoholic flushed face that burned afterwards. Will have to build up to pre-pregnancy tolerance again… one day.
And I’m already over my leaky boobs. As Gary rather gleefully pointed out, he doesn’t have to sleep on the wet patch any more. However I’m not happy about the fact that I’m creating my own wet patches without any of the previous fun, and wake up with a completely wet front. No wonder Benjamin squacks when he’s done one of his sneaky piddles that wet him right through. It may have something to do with the fact that it took me a couple of weeks to work out why I always seemed to need to change his clothes after I had put a nappy on him, as opposed to Gary who is much more expert at doing it than I am. As far as I could tell I was putting nappies on the same as him until it dawned on me that I hadn’t taken into account the fact that he was a boy, or had noticed what position his penis was in when putting a nappy on. Once I took that into account and wrapped him up centrally, so to speak, there were very few accidents after that.
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