…The post formerly known as Holy Bleeding Nipples, Batman. I figured an entire post devoted to my nipples (now referred to as “the bleeding fissures”) was unnecessary.
I told someone yesterday that this venture into parenthood for the second time was somewhat easier and not as scary.
I was not trying to lie or mislead. But it’s not easier. And it’s still scary as hell.
I’ve done all this newborn business before, so why do I feel like such an amateur?
Breastfeeding has been much more of a challenge this time. Never before had my nipples bled. Never before did I fully understand why many, many women decide to switch to formula.
I feel like I should be an expert at breastfeeding. Peanut breastfed for 13 months, so it’s only been five months since I last breastfed. I thought I knew what I was doing. All of your advice and encouragement have certainly helped me realize I’m not the only one who has suffered through these beginning days of breastfeeding.
I find myself pulling out my parenting books to see if Reshel’s eating, sleeping, and pooping habits are normal. Although I learned from Peanut that parenting books are mostly pages full of facts that make me question every decision I make, it is somehow comforting to read what is normal.
How do I not remember the amount of poop newborns produce? Or how much they sleep? Or how their eyes goes in two different directions?
I check on her constantly to make sure she’s still breathing.
When Reshel cries and isn’t easily soothed, I feel an unbelievable fear that it’s the beginning of colic. I question each bite of food I’ve eaten. Did I have too much dairy. Too much tomato sauce? What if I didn’t burp her enough?
I thought I’d feel more confident.
My confidence is definitely lacking when it comes to parenting TWO.
I haven’t figured out yet how to deal with both of them when they are crying for me. Although I’m exhausted, I try to make time for playing with Peanut when Reshel is sleeping. Peanut has been nothing but the sweetest boy to his baby sister, but he is still having a hard time adjusting.
I knew he’d have a hard time adjusting, but I wish I knew how to make it better. I wish that he didn’t feel so insecure every time Tate or I leave a room. I wish Peanut didn’t feel abandoned.
It has also been challenging dealing with so many people (with and without children) who question our decision to have babies 18 months apart. Seriously people, it’s not nice to question an extremely hormonal, sleep deprived, overachieving new Mother. It’s just cruel.
In several months, I hope to look back at this post and see how far we’ve come. But right now, I feel like I’m on stage for Amateur Night. I’ve forgotten my lines. I’m completely unprepared. And everyone is staring at me.