Ups and downs
It's been just one of those weeks. Not one I care to repeat anytime soon. But then.... it's had some good bits. On Monday we came home from hospital. Leaving the security of the nurses and midwives with their magic calming/sleeping touch is definitely an anxious time. The drive home wasn't quite as terrifying as when we brought Dylan home, but it certainly felt like a new beginning. The first day at home wasn't too bad. We kept ourselves occupied with unpacking the hospital bag, going through paperwork that we needed to complete, and trying to keep some form of normality going. After a very restless nap, Dylan was awoken to be told that he must have been just too busy on Easter Sunday visiting his new baby brother in hospital that he hadn't even noticed that the Easter bunny had left him a stash of chocolate in the backyard. So an egg hunt was had, although Dylan was tired and a bit grumpy.
Adjusting to having a 3 year old and a newborn in the house will take some getting used to. Dylan is loud, plays loud, stomps his feet up and down the hallway, and does just whatever a 3 year old does. I was just so petrified of loud noises in the house when Dylan was born, but now I'm trying to reach a happy medium. The nurses said a regular level of noise was good for the baby to get used to, but my brain tells me to creep around the house and keep noise to a minimum. 3 year olds just don't always comply, but we are getting there.
We had a few very rough days with Tristan's feeding. Dylan never took to breastfeeding well, and I never had the supply nor the ability to latch him on properly. Within the first 20 minutes of being born, Tristan was looking for the boob. I went into breastfeeding second time around with an open mind. If it worked, great, if it didn't, nothing or no-one would try to pull the wool over my eyes. Dylan turned out fine, so it really didn't matter how Tristan got fed. Initially attaching was a bit hit and miss, and I started to have my doubts that it would work, but one of the nurses in hospital showed me a way that I tried to replicate, and more often managed to get right. We had a terrible evening on our 2nd day at home. Tristan's feeding really turned to shit. Attachment got sloppy, fatigue set in. He fed, and dozed and fed and dozed, never accepting a nice warm cot, preferring to be in our arms, or trying to feed. Alarm bells began ringing in my head - this was my lack of supply dramas happening all over again. After 7 hours, finally at midnight he calmed down and slept. And slept. And slept. I kept checking on him, but he was obviously just so tired from the night before that he didn't arise til just after 6am. Looking back now, this was just his way of boosting my supply. He still takes a while to feed and will often doze off and take some time to settle for a sleep, but the feeding is looking up. I won't let it faze me like last time. Routines and scheduled feeds are weeks if not months off, so for now we just go with the flow and do whatever needs doing.
One thing I will mention, albeit briefly, is my mental health. The baby blues most certainly struck, and I've been teary, and calm, inconsolable, and laughing all within a short space of time. Yes, I'm lucky to have such a beautiful new baby, who is happy, and healthy. He's pretty chilled out and I'm just so in love with him already. I am struggling with a case of gender disappointment as I'd so hoped to have a baby sister for Dylan. I do need to talk about it. To get my feelings heard, validated, and calmed. Some days are worse than others. I know this will take time, but in the meantime I just stare at this beautiful little man in my arms and know that I love him ever so much.
On Thursday, when I needed to clear my head, I popped Tristan into the pram and took him and Dylan for a walk. I still clearly remember my first walk with Dylan in the pram at 8 days old. We had walked a lap of the block, and had bumped into an old lady who cooed at this tiny being in the pram. She had asked me who he belonged to, and was surprised when I had said he was mine. I was apparently looking too well to have a newborn, and to be striding it out on the home stretch of our walk when he was so new. Walking with a 3 year old and a baby didn't go quite to plan this week. Halfway down the street Dylan had a meltdown and lay down in someone's driveway wanting to be riding his bike instead of walking. We never made it around the block, but at least the baby was calm, and I got some fresh air. We'll get to that lap of the block again soon.
Bel
Adjusting to having a 3 year old and a newborn in the house will take some getting used to. Dylan is loud, plays loud, stomps his feet up and down the hallway, and does just whatever a 3 year old does. I was just so petrified of loud noises in the house when Dylan was born, but now I'm trying to reach a happy medium. The nurses said a regular level of noise was good for the baby to get used to, but my brain tells me to creep around the house and keep noise to a minimum. 3 year olds just don't always comply, but we are getting there.
We had a few very rough days with Tristan's feeding. Dylan never took to breastfeeding well, and I never had the supply nor the ability to latch him on properly. Within the first 20 minutes of being born, Tristan was looking for the boob. I went into breastfeeding second time around with an open mind. If it worked, great, if it didn't, nothing or no-one would try to pull the wool over my eyes. Dylan turned out fine, so it really didn't matter how Tristan got fed. Initially attaching was a bit hit and miss, and I started to have my doubts that it would work, but one of the nurses in hospital showed me a way that I tried to replicate, and more often managed to get right. We had a terrible evening on our 2nd day at home. Tristan's feeding really turned to shit. Attachment got sloppy, fatigue set in. He fed, and dozed and fed and dozed, never accepting a nice warm cot, preferring to be in our arms, or trying to feed. Alarm bells began ringing in my head - this was my lack of supply dramas happening all over again. After 7 hours, finally at midnight he calmed down and slept. And slept. And slept. I kept checking on him, but he was obviously just so tired from the night before that he didn't arise til just after 6am. Looking back now, this was just his way of boosting my supply. He still takes a while to feed and will often doze off and take some time to settle for a sleep, but the feeding is looking up. I won't let it faze me like last time. Routines and scheduled feeds are weeks if not months off, so for now we just go with the flow and do whatever needs doing.
One thing I will mention, albeit briefly, is my mental health. The baby blues most certainly struck, and I've been teary, and calm, inconsolable, and laughing all within a short space of time. Yes, I'm lucky to have such a beautiful new baby, who is happy, and healthy. He's pretty chilled out and I'm just so in love with him already. I am struggling with a case of gender disappointment as I'd so hoped to have a baby sister for Dylan. I do need to talk about it. To get my feelings heard, validated, and calmed. Some days are worse than others. I know this will take time, but in the meantime I just stare at this beautiful little man in my arms and know that I love him ever so much.
On Thursday, when I needed to clear my head, I popped Tristan into the pram and took him and Dylan for a walk. I still clearly remember my first walk with Dylan in the pram at 8 days old. We had walked a lap of the block, and had bumped into an old lady who cooed at this tiny being in the pram. She had asked me who he belonged to, and was surprised when I had said he was mine. I was apparently looking too well to have a newborn, and to be striding it out on the home stretch of our walk when he was so new. Walking with a 3 year old and a baby didn't go quite to plan this week. Halfway down the street Dylan had a meltdown and lay down in someone's driveway wanting to be riding his bike instead of walking. We never made it around the block, but at least the baby was calm, and I got some fresh air. We'll get to that lap of the block again soon.
Bel
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