BarefootinBoston

About 4 months ago, we thought E was teething.  He had all the typical signs, drooling, biting, fussing, it must be a tooth?!  We were so wrong.   He was having incredible issues breastfeeding, and wasn’t getting enough food.  Yikes.

Move forward to now.  The past few days have been complete hell for me with E.  He’s been even more fussy than usual.  The whole time I’ve kept my fingers crossed that it was him teething.  I was sure I felt some bumps on the bottom front gums.  But, I was so willing to chalk it up to teething before, what was I really missing?

Yesterday we were at MJ’s.  I figured she must be the know all with teething as her son has SIX teeth (or is it 5?) already at 8 months.  She felt around, we both peered in his mouth, and there it was.  We could see a little of the tooth, not feel it, but see it.

Later on that night when A came home, I had to run to work so we weren’t able to discuss the tooth situation. When I returned, A told me he could feel it when E was biting his hand.  I know!  I said.  But, after E’s nightly bottle, I was feeling and it had surfaced!  A, once again, told me he could feel it (I just assumed he felt it beneath the gums).  So our little guy is growing up!   I’m not sure what to think of this whole teething thing.  My mother said it’s exciting and that he’ll be so cute with it.  I just start thinking of him biting me, and then of him marrying someone and not loving me as much anymore.  I know, there’s a huge gap in time there, but I find myself whispering to Emerson, you will always love me the most.  I want to be getting the most love from him forever, however selfish that may be.  There are worse things I could wish for.

Bras, this has been on my mind for the past couple of months.  I have recently been to two different stores in the past week, attempting to find a new one (I shamefully admit that I am still wearing nursing bras even though I stopped with the breastfeeding thing two months ago…).  Wow.  After about 30 minutes of trying them on at each place, I left with one bra…one bra total.  And when I got home and tried it on again, it was not working!

But I just don’t understand how the people who ‘fit’ you can be so off.  My boobs have been all kinds of sizes.  But I truly believe they are smaller than they were before I was pregnant.  I am very excited about this.  But when I was fitted, at both stores, the sizes they gave me were so incredibly off.  I tried on the bras they suggested, tried that ’sister sizes’, nothing was working.  I feel like I”ve tried on every size that I possibly can.  Then it was just a matter of trying on the different types as they all fit differently.

I am so tied of having a nursing bra uniboob.   But I am at a complete loss what to do about it.  I can’t seem to find a bra that will fit.  Now what?

“As I gaze at the flowers on the nightstand, awed by the density of their color, I wonder again why so many new mothers are desperate to leave the comforts of the hospital. I’m so content that I keep thinking about how I can break open my stitches or give myself a concussion so that I can stay another day.” Mommies Who Drink, Brett Paesel

I don’t think I could have said it any better. The first week we were home with E, I missed being in the hospital. A said he much preferred being at home. When we were at the hospital, the nurses would barge in throughout the night, taking vitals, bringing in crying E, a million things. This barging in was something I was willing to put up with in exchange for constant help with breastfeeding, constant help with newborn questions and constant help with food (or lack of having to make anything). Although the bed wasn’t as comfortable as my own and the shower was dingy, it was reassuring to have so many people around to help and answer questions at my whim. When I got home, I had a panic attack. I remember the first nights, or I should say, I remember not remembering anything about those first nights. They were incredibly sleepless, E would only sleep on A or my chest, with whoever was holding him fearing his death should we fall asleep. Eventually I ended up with a Moby wrap so I would just sleep with him strapped to my chest, knowing there was no way he could fall out if I could barely get him out of that wrap when I was trying.

But back to the point, I also do not know why people are so eager to rush home. I question how many people truly are as there is always so much discussion about how short the hospital stays are. I had E at 5:23 on a Friday evening and left the hospital at 2:30 on a Sunday afternoon….not even 48 hours. This was intentional as if I left before 48 hours were complete, I got a home visit (another person to reassure me everything was ok). But I missed the evening cutoff of getting another night at the hospital by two and a half hours. Damn you E, couldn’t you have waited just a couple more hours! Oh well, it’s over now, and I’m home for good with this little one. Maybe I’ll experience this whole longing to be in the hospital longer should A and I decide to have another. But for now, it’s just the fond memories of the constant help and compliments on my little E.