No seriously, the site is called 'momversation'...see what they did there?
Never in my life did I imagine myself spending hours watching a bunch of 'moms' talk about all things motherly. Never did I imagine that I would find so much of my identity in being a mum. I can't believe how completely gooey I become at the sight of a baby, never mind the surge of love that besets me when I see the ickle cuteness that is my very own daughter, Molly.
The first few weeks of Molly's life was a strange introduction to motherhood for me. Once I finally got unplugged from the IV's and the darn catheter, I was allowed to go visit her in the Neonatal ICU. Shane wheeled me down there in a wheelchair and we nervously hovered outside her incubation box until a nurse gave us permission to take her out and hold her. Aside from two brief moments when I was doped up on the magnesium sulfate (one of them shortly after delivery) this was effectively the first time I got to hold my daughter, 30 something hours after she left my very body. It felt that she had been stolen from me.
As I've said before, I've never been around babies, so I already felt that I was roaming in strange territory. But when Molly was handed to me that evening, I felt like I was being supervised. There where nurses everywhere and Molly was hooked up to a bunch of different leads to monitor her. In my head I genuinely felt that if I held her wrong or didn't appear responsible enough it would get noted in some file somewhere and she would be taken from me, forever! I stared at her, quite suspiciously, wondering if I would ever get a chance at being her Mum.
During the visit I kept myself kind of distanced from the whole situation keeping my emotions bottled up till I could return to the hospital room and have a meltdown. Back in the room I told Shane how i was feeling, sobbed, and muttered the words ' i love her' ..at this point Shane confessed that he was really glad to hear me say that as he was concerned during our nicu visit.
We were in hospital for a total of ten days and during that time the surveillance decreased until we had her in my room pretty much most of the day. Our interaction with Molly seemed incredibly task focussed, she wasn't allowed home until she gained weight so we were on a strict regime, our three hour routine went like so:
- wake her
- change her
- attempt breastfeeding...fail miserably
- fortify breast milk in a bottle
- feed her bottle
- burp her
- pump so we had milk to fortify for next feeding
- put her back to sleep in her bed
(we were advised not to hold her as she slept as our movements might disturb her sleep and leave her drowsy for the next feeding).
- finally, speak to an nicu nurse and tell them how long she breast fed for, how many ml's she took from the bottle and how much I was able to pump.
Repeat two hours later.
And so this was the beginning, little time for bonding, no grace for mistakes. This treacherous pattern continued the first week she was home. It wasn't until week two that I decided to take some time out and stare at her, talk to her, sing to her, snuggle her..and that is where the love affair truly began, my heart is bursting. The other night, she was sleeping next to me and I reached out to her in the dark and held her tiny little hand - I swear, for a few seconds I was floating.
She is gaining weight rapidly, breast feeding wonderfully and i'm SURE she is smiling at me. She is perfect, she is Molly and she is alllllllll mine (and a little bit of her dad's ;o).
1 comment:
Glad you and your family are doing so well! :-)
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