Last night Gabriele actually seemed to sleep for three hours in a row, which was complete bliss. Even though I still looked and felt like a zombie this morning on the school run, I felt as though my mind was a bit sharper than it has been recently. It may help that Gabriele is now feeding 5oz of baby milk in one sitting instead of the lousy 2oz he’d been doing previously. His nappies are nice and loose and his tummy is free to fill up properly with each feed so he’s going longer between feeds now during the day and almost topped four hours the other day, but he’s still alert at night.
He had a bit of a terror night two days ago when he refused to settle, constantly wanted to be paced around and wanted milk but growled like heck when he was drinking it. I was up and down with him the whole night it totally destroyed me, and by the morning he passed a green squishy nappy instead of his usual yellow and then he was fine again after that. I’m not sure what made his nappy green as he’s still on his formula and nothing has changed. One of life’s little mysteries!
So our little boy is six weeks old today and it feels as though I gave birth a lifetime ago, I’m spookily at the point when people ask me how the birth was I automatically say “Yeh, it was alright really” and the fear and pain and horror scene in the hospital bed all suddenly fizzle away into forgetfulness as if it never happened and this somewhat gay scene of skipping in a long dress carrying daisies through a meadow sneakily hijacks my memory bank instead. At this point in time I could see how women might think it a good idea to have another baby now in order to have their children grow up together and get the family ‘out of the way’ so to speak. I believe it’s a survival technique of the human race to inadvertently coax a woman into baring another child through sheer exhaustion and forgetfulness.
At this very moment I can’t see us having any more children in the future, but that’s not to say I wouldn’t like another; but we have to be realistic and sensible to weigh up the future and our ability to cope with an extra child financially and emotionally. Having two children is absolutely lovely, but it’s hard work to say the least. Whether it’s the fact of having a newborn right now throwing the house into chaos or forever having an extra tinker to worry about and tend to that reserve me right now, I’m not sure. It’s manic taking the two children out together, the bags, car seats, coats and shoes… it’s just impossible and the vision of skipping off out on a Sunday afternoon to the beach on a whim are near on impossible now as we must always be within striking distance of a kettle, shop or changing area at all times. But when Gabriele reaches Millie’s age it will be so much easier and I’ll probably kick myself for not having had another baby. I just hope I don’t torture myself with ‘what if’s’ forever.
But aside from all that, I’m waiting for the glorious return of my period whom I just know will be dying to unleash hell on me for the entire time I’ve had off of the dreaded cycle whilst being pregnant. I know I can’t get away with having a year free of bleeding so I’m expecting my periods to return with a vengeance. And although I’ve not had any blood yet I know it must be approaching, as Gabriele is a month and a half old now and I’ve started to get sticky discharge again which is such a disgusting and unwelcome surprise. And my emotions have been all over the place yet again, I had actual tears in my eyes when I brought Millie a 2000 Disney Princess sticker book the other day because I just knew she would love it so much and couldn’t wait to see the excitement on her little face. The woman at the checkout must have thought I was insane for welling up over a sticker book! And actually I think I was/am too!
Yesterday I left Gabriele for the first time ever and it crippled me, I felt as though I was in mourning every second that I was away from him, and every step I took in the opposite direction as I walked away became heavier and harder and I did all that I could to stop myself running back to him. Even though he was in good hands with Luca’s mum and we were only going to the next town from us for a little over an hour, as soon as I got into the car I burst into tears. I looked into the back at his empty car seat and it felt as though someone had gripped a hold of my heart, I had to see his little face again because I couldn’t picture him vividly enough in my mind, so I looked at his picture on my mobile and sat stroking the screen crying. My throat was just swollen and heavy with love and longing and my eyes wouldn’t stop chucking tears down my face. With makeup askew I fumbled blindly into my handbag for a tissue and pulled out a fresh newborn nappy and it cut me up all the more. As Luca drove I dabbed away my tears in the front seat with Gabriele’s tiny little nappy like some kind of lunatic, and I sat holding it in my lap as we drove, consciously struggling to hold onto the smallest bond with my baby.
With Millie I returned to work six weeks after she was born and although it upset me to leave her, at the same time I was ready in myself to return and have that space and time away to get back to normality. But with Gabriele I realise I’m not yet ready to leave him. As we drove I felt sick and nervous, I made Luca pull his mobile phone out and laid mine next to his so that if his mum called to tell us about Gabriele we would be able to answer straight away. Every minute dragged and I felt uncomfortable and annoyed at everything trivial that kept me away from our baby; Luca stopped for a takeout on the way home and there was noway I could even comprehend eating anything, every bite that he took made me more and more desperate to blend it up and get him to drink it so that we could race home to our children. My hands were clammy, my heart was heavy and I couldn’t concentrate on anything. It’s so difficult to explain emotion and how it can vary so greatly day to day, but when you’ve had a baby and every breathing minute you think of your children suddenly whatever takes you away from them seems like a threat rather than a break. It took a lot for me to leave Millie with my mum whilst I went to work, not that I didn’t trust her or think that she wouldn’t be able to cope with a baby, but because I didn’t actually want to leave her; but gradually it became more bearable but not any easier. Even now when Millie is away from me I still worry but not to the point of fearing for her. With Gabriele being so young my fear is incredibly tangible. I would absolutely love to go out for a romantic dinner one evening just Luca and I, but at the same time I think I would stress and strain over the thought of leaving Gabriele that it would ruin the evening chasing all of the horrible things in my mind that could happen to him whilst I’m away and I know I would punish myself for going out for a meal and putting myself before my baby. I could never forgive myself if anything were to happen to my babies when I’m not around, it’s my worst fear in the whole world and I pray to God that nothing ever happens.
I know in time I will feel comfortable with having space and time away from Gabriele, but not yet. I’m not a frantic psycho stalking him; I’m just a caring mother with a newborn. Despite the sleep deprivation and endless chores I still feel like Gabriele is my right arm right now and I would be utterly lost and depressed without him. I love my children more than life itself, they are my purpose and my drive, my heart and my soul and I only hope that I can love and protect them for as long as I’m alive. And when I’ve gone to another place some day I pray that I will be able to look upon them and watch over them to keep them safe and happy. I’m near close to tears writing this, my head and heart are so up in the air right now whenever I think of my babies. Argh!
On a more sobering note I have managed to not even shift a pound in weight this week! If anything I feel more bloated than ever and it’s so depressing. I haven’t worked out yet just incase it leaves me with my belly sticking out or my womb not returning to the right place. But I did manage one hundred sit-ups the other night and sixty last night.
So this is my blob of a body and I’m getting more and more nervous that this is my final resting weight seeing as I’ve had such a tiny change in my weight loss these last few weeks. I’m hoping that doing sit ups will tone my stomach but I know there is still a big layer of fat to trim away first, but nothing seems to shift it. But now that I’ve reached the golden six-week mark I can start doing something about it and hitting the cardio hard in the hope of burning the bulge. My thighs feel massive, my belly sticks out and I can’t quite do the zip up on all of my jeans yet. I’ve been eating so healthy apart from when we went out for dinner and I smashed my face through three whole courses and an amazing desert! Oh, and then I had a huge bowl of pasta yesterday for dinner and some chocolate buttons when we sat watching TV in the evening. Argh I just want to throw my hands in the air and bury my head in the sand, I try so hard to stay strong and eat the right food but I keep failing and I don’t know why.
I used to be so much stronger than this I completely disappoint myself with my greed over food and junk, why am I allowing myself to binge? I need to cut it out completely and not allow myself any treats or stodgy food because just one spoonful continues to fuel the fires of greed and I desperately don’t want to carry this extra weight. I don’t need it, I don’t like it and I shouldn’t encourage it.
My hair is falling out in handfuls which I know is the backlog of the hair I didn’t shed whilst being pregnant, and I know it’s normal to play catchup after the birth, but it’s still scary seeing my shower plug looking furrier than my chihuahua every time I wash my hair. I can picture this fat balding whale that stalks me in the mirror every morning becoming my new neighbour for life and I’m trying my hardest not to retreat to the sweet cupboard to binge away my sorrows. x