Holy crapoly. She is here. She is here. My second tiny human is here!

What the heck am I supposed to do with such a tiny baby again? Can someone please tell me?

… And … Why is there a bunch of fuzz floating around where memories of the first few weeks of my FIRST tiny human’s life should be??!! Was I asleep …like…the entire time? Probably. WTF.

So, as you would know if you have been following my blog, my little lady arrived earthside on the 22nd of December, 2017. Just in time for Christmas. Read about my amazing labour here!

This post is the story of the month that followed.

This is my Diary Of A Crazy Baby – One Month Old. 

In the hospital I was in a blur of happy hormones. I was sore AF from the emergency c-section of course, but I was so over-the-top excited (as always) and blissful with the new baby that was flopping about in my arms.

I breastfed whilst in the hospital, however just like my first experience with breastfeeding (which you can read about here), it hurt like freaking hell and I dreaded every single feed. But this time there was less pressure as I knew that once my feet walked out of that hospital room, that I would be happy to formula feed. And I was totally cool with that, because #FedIsBest.

So, I was in the hospital for two nights only. YASSS, praise be to the hospital gods, coz sharing a room with someone you don’t know once the post birth laxatives kick in, is the total pits. It really is. #AllIWantedWasToPushThoseTerrifyingLaxativeInducedFartsOutInPeace

And those two nights were FULL ON.

I spent the first night trying to figure out the logistics of how to roll over to pick my daughter up, without my Caesarian wound ripping open and spilling my insides out onto the floor. Oh and when I wasn’t doing that, I was listening to the dulcet tones of my roommate power spewing her own post birth meds onto the floor. She did that a lot. It was delightful. Except not at all. My gag reflex almost took me with her. #AndMyFingersHurtFromPressingTheNurseButtonForHer

Speaking of vomits… During that first night, my baby spewed her very first spew. Nawwwwwww… Quick, someone get the camera! However since she had been birthed via c-section rather than vaginally, she still had a whole lot of mucus and muck in her lungs. So they told me. And because of that, when she threw up that first time, she choked a little because it was all so thick. And the choking LITERALLY scared the meconium outta her.

The girl was a little traumatized by it, and so every time she needed a little burp or a spew in those first few days she would fight it, and howl in part fear, part rage, and part regular red-faced baby banshee-ness.

I called the nurse for help that first night, and she suggested that she take the baby for a couple of hours so I could get a little bit of sleep. She then milked my boobs like I was a cow, and scratched at my nipples with a syringe to get any drops of colostrum that may have fallen out of me, in case the baby got hungry while she was gone. #ItFuckingHurtThatGirlWasNOTGentle. #MyColostrumProbablyEvaporatedInItsFearOfTheScratchySyringe

She took the baby, and I “rested”. Or rather, I lay there and wondered how my nipples would ever recover from such harsh treatment. Bloody hell.

Nope, I didn’t really get any rest at all that first night. I lay in the hospital bed listening to the sounds of the machines in the rooms around me, and in the hallways. I listened to the nurses talking, and hardest of all, I listed to the sound of my baby crying near the nurses station up at the end of the hall.

Well … I thought it was my baby, but as I found out later, there were around 5 babies in that room so it could have been any one of them. Or…terrifyingly, maybe NONE of them were crying and my brain was just taunting me with the most difficult sound a new mother could hear, just for shits and giggles?! Highly freaking likely. My brain is such a jerk like that.

My spew covered roommate was discharged on my second day in, so I spent that second night in total and blissful peace. Pffft, yeah right! I actually spent the second night painfully shuffling back and forth through the room trying to settle my baby while she cried and baby-hated me for doing a shit job at trying to breastfeed her. I don’t blame her. I really did suck at it.

I was so exhausted and out of my mind on pain medication that second night, that my eyes were closing of their own accord. At one point I almost walked into the wall, and since there were no toothpicks lying around for me to prop my tired eyes open with, I realised that I probably needed a bit of help again. So I called the nurse once more.

This nurse took the baby for me again, for around two hours and was so kind to me that I felt relaxed enough to have a proper (though tiny) power nap. Bloody hell, it made all the difference in the world and I felt like a new, though totally bloated, woman. Full of about 2 solid days of poo that wasn’t exiting my body, but rather good all the same.

It’s amazing how much sleep and pooing consumes your life as a new mother.

We thrillingly went home on Christmas Eve – a mere 48 hours after birthing my baby.

I was so relieved to be home, knowing I would be comfortable in my own bed and environment, and that when those laxatives finally kicked in I would be within shuffling distance of three, I REPEAT THREE, toilets. #ShitYeah…SeeWhatIDidThere?

We started a routine straight away once home, the same as what we did with my son, and it has worked amazingly well for both kids. We bottle fed every 3 hours during the day, and every 4 hours at night – at 8am, 11am, 2pm, 5pm, 8pm, midnight, and 4am.

At night the baby slept in her bassinet at the foot of our bed, and during the day she would sleep in her pram either behind the couch or in the hallway. Always within a few steps of where we would be.

My husband ran around like a headless chook trying to take care of everything, however it got to the point that I almost sent him out of the house for a rest.

For the first few weeks, the little lady thought she was too good for burping, and remained that way until her system matured enough to handle a big old burpy output like her brother. She seemed more comfortable after that.

She grew so quickly and changed so much, however because this was our second time around we felt like we were able to pay more attention to the little things, the little changes that occurred, which we hadn’t really noticed when our son was born.

Like, how she opened her eyes while she was LITERALLY getting dragged out of my body in the hospital, and looked at me like it was all my fault she was cold. Well, she was right, it kinda was lol.

Like, how she moved down instinctively to feed from my breast while on my chest for the first time. I was still covered in blood, some of her poop and much of my insides were still hanging out of my body, but babies are incredible like that. They couldn’t give two hoots, and they just know what to do for survival…

Like, how early she smiled at me. She smiled from day two in the hospital. Da girl so happy <3

Like, how she only cried when hungry or tired. Thank goodness, coz if she cried for more than that I may have tried to get a refund.

Like, how she moved like uncooperative spaghetti. I forgot about that. Sigh. Dressing babies is stupid when they are so floppy… I mean, why can’t they just come pre-dressed for heavens sake??

And also like, how FREAKING NOISY babies are! I forgot how much they snort and snuffle at all hours of the night, like a piglet that has a cold…

So when the little lady hit two weeks of age, we decided to move her from the bassinet into her cot in her own room down the hall. And I am not even kidding, but once she was in there she slept as soundly as my husband does after a few drinks. Minus the snoring part though.

I actually think she liked her own space. Maybe we were cramping her style. Maybe the bassinet was actually uncomfortable. Probably all of the above.

It didn’t take long for us to remember what to do with our newborn once we got her home. Because newborns are so easy, they sleep all the time and require so little. Except love. They require shit loads of that. So we made sure that we gave it to her.

I think that we were more present in that first month, and in every little moment really, than we had been with our son. Because with your first child you are so excited about, and so proud of, everything they achieve, every milestone they meet.

But when your second (or third, or fourth) comes along, you realise just how fleeting it all is and how precious they are. And that before you can even blink, they are grown up and don’t need you any more…

So we spend our days cuddling her and holding her for WAY longer than she probable wants us to. We tell her we love her over and over and over again just so she has no doubts, and feels it in her teeny tiny bones. We smother her with kisses, and just try to enjoy this sweet little human that we worked so hard to create…

And most of all, we sit and stare at her for hours, (read all about how babies are time stealers here) revelling in her smiles and high fiving ourselves on creating such an amazing little tiny person. Because – Holy Shit, we MADE THAT! And she is here, happy and all ours.

I can’t believe that she is here… xx

Stay tuned for the next instalment of Diary of a Crazy Baby.
Because they really are freaking crazy…

Ps. What sticks out for you from the first month of your child’s life? If you have more than one, did you find that you could just simply enjoy your babies being babies? Leave me a comment below as I would love to hear all about it! xx