Toddler naptime stream of consciousness, nine days into it…
Trying this without using the “delete” key.
Getting too old for these nighttime feedings. I love stroking Délice’s cheeks. Oh my goodness gracious, she smells like heaven. Nice not to feel so stressed about it all this time around. Rather, stressed she is growing before our eyes. Quick, quick, take it in before it fades away. It took me all of three days to decide Délice cannot be our last one. TM agreed by day five. What is wrong with us? This is madness. How will I ever feed both? Entertain Ayo and not miss out on Délice’s each move? Whole house sick with tummy bug sucks big time. Ayo is hardly ever sick. How could that have happened? Cartoons allowed in our house, what’s happened to our parenting? Ayo’s first big bro moment, cuddling Délice whilst watching a show: “Caillou fait des pizzas.” A French show seems more acceptable, right? At least he is learning something, right? He’s speaking less French already. Mama can’t just be dedicated to teaching him French all day anymore. So sad. So happy. So thankful for those who are caring for him. And us. Surrounded by unbelievably loving friends, family and church. Tired. Winded. How will I cope when TM goes back to work and Mamie is back home? This is like a diaper factory between her and him. She poops. He poops. She poops again. Tiring. Then I feel great and attack machine loads of spit up and breastmilk laden towels. And then I get tired. Herbal baths are divine. All postpartum mamas should be allowed to enjoy the herbal bath I had at the birth center after Délice was born. That was my first moment I got to stare into her face all on my own. So special. SO special. Candles, babe snuggles and bath – like I said, divine. Then the vernix absorbed into her skin. Skin-to-skin, skin. Then, I took the memory home: stockings to pour herbs into and a bathtub to pour herbal stocking into. A bath to shut everyone else out. Just me and my squishy belly that no one wants to touch anymore. I do! Me and my leaky breasts. Thankful for great supply. Quick feedings. But leaking faucets are hard to repair. Time. It’s all about time. Back to the bath – me and my memories alive behind my closed eyes. It was a birth beyond my wildest expectations. Birth is addictive. An unpredictable roller coaster. My hopes this time: to feel the intensity of the pain the whole time, not to push the sensations away. To experience the ring of fire. Ouch…why did I want that? To try other coping mechanisms rather than just squatting to push a babe out for 10 hours. Sling, shower, toilet, stair lunges, birth ball, tub… To enjoy pink champagne in celebration of this new little girl. To try the birthing tub. Check check check. Beyond my wildest expectations: midwife Laura attending Délice’s birth. A waterbirth! A Christmas Day birth! A delicious vernixy babe. No laceration at all. Say what?! Second baby bliss. A birth attended by my mama and my sis a.k.a. “midwife in training”and doula par excellence. Best labor backrubs ever. Most calming presence ever.
And… toddler naptime is over. Just like that.