I know I gave you nothing to read today. I apologize. Today, though, was the first day that I felt semi-human and I really wanted to spend it with my husband and my son. Which was AWESOME.
Then my milk came in. I thought this was awesome because (oh, wait, lemme just.. TMI WARNING AHEAD) before Tony had been suckling every hour or so and nothing was happening. I liken this to having small rodents lap at various open wounds on your body. It was the most painful thing ever. Seriously. Childbirth was a cake walk compared to having a hungry newborn voraciously syphoning nothing out of your nipples. And when I put it that way, could you argue?
Anyway, so my milk came in. Guess what? My boobs. are. huge. I know, I know.. they were definitely large and in charge before, but MAN, we are talking big like .. like they could bitch-slap Dolly Parton’s boobs. Tony, however, is very excited about this development and has celebrated by sleeping in serious spurts. Like, five hour spurts. How I feel about this varies. I’ve found sources that both celebrate and denounce this behavior; some say let ’em sleep while other say you should wake them every two hours to feed. Me?
I haven’t decided yet. But I will say that the first spurt had me TERRIFIED. I literally checked to make sure he was breathing. A lot. Had I known that he was going to sleep that long, I totally would’ve napped. (I lie. My massive ta-tas were too swollen to sleep.)
Tomorrow, we venture out to the pediatrician. It will be our first time out of the house since we got here, which feels like weeks ago. The pediatrician will look at his “lucky foot” and give us a basic diagnosis; we go see the specialist on Friday.
Oh, and some pics are on Flickr.
We were blessed enough to have one of those lazy afternoons, where Bryan sprawled over me on the couch and Tony dozed on Bryan’s chest. We spent a good two hours that way, and it was such a euphoria filled moment that I wondered how we ever got by before this.
I am so incredibly lame now, huh?