Random Thoughts on Motherhood

It's been a while since I've blogged. Haven't had time because too busy uploading photos of baby Clyde, breastfeeding 24/7, and getting spit up/pooped/peed on, and quelling crying.

We were at the Jersey Shore for ten days for the 4th. Ingrid took the week off and it was A GODSEND. It was so nice not to have to be the only one taking care of Clyde from 8 to 6. It's nonstop, and kind of exhausting. She still sleeps a lot but is awake a lot more too, and that means more crying. During that ten days, I ate ice cream and cookies and drank martinis every day and GAINED FOUR LBS during that time. I thought breastfeeding was supposed to burn tons of calories? Apparently not if you eat like a horse. I got back and have been going to the gym every day while my mom watches Clyde, and have lost those four lbs but still have 15 to go for prepregnancy weight.

At the gym the other day, this lesbian trainer yelled at me for working out too soon postpartum. She said you have to wait six weeks. I thought I knew my body well enough to work out. She told me to lay off the heavy Cybex machines and take it easy, or I could get injured and not be able to work out for three months.

At the shore, I got yelled at for drinking while breastfeeding. Clarification: not drinking WHILE breastfeeding at the same time, but drinking while I am in general nursing. Clarification: I usually wait until around 6 or 7 when Clyde has a really good feed and then I have a drink when I know I have a two or three hour window before she eats again. And then I eat a bunch of food (see above paragraphs) to counterbalance the alcohol. Being a new mother is just one barrage of criticism after another.

My lesbian friend Jodi's good friend (a former lesbian, or maybe a bisexual?) is now six months pregnant with her old boyfriend from 10 years ago. Congratulations! This entry is for her.

New motherhood is a shift. Clyde is a pretty good baby, but she still cries a decent amount and sometimes you don't know why. People on the street stare and point at me if she's in her stroller screaming. I'm like, she's been fed, she's got a dry diaper and we're very close to home--there's nothing I can do about it except to snuggle her when we get home. But people say to me, "Your baby is crying." Gee, thanks, that's something I hadn't noticed.

It's very physical, taking care of a baby. When you're used to working in an office, and being intellectually and professionally stimulated every day, and then you're home and beholden to a tiny creature who cannot speak or even necessarily see you, it's a trip. It's a different world. It's hard, and thankless. But amazing, too. I find myself sing-songing everything, and can go a day without talking to anyone else. It's a bit crazy-making.

Breastfeeding is amazing. And all consuming. Clyde sometimes wants to be nursed once an hour. Sometimes it's the only thing that'll calm her down.

But even when she's screaming bloody murder, as my mother says, she's so gosh-darn cute that it's hard to be frustrated. And it does stop, eventually. (The crying, not the cuteness.)

Every day she develops more. Now she is looking up at the sheep mobile over her changing table. It's fun. She smiles for Grandpa Fred, my stepdad, and he is proud. I love that.

More soon.... Jodi's friend, I'm not naming you, to protect your identity (for the four people who read this!), but I'm thrilled for you! Congrats again! love, Liz