A new beginning...

Today almost feels like it's the first day home with baby from the hospital. Finally, it's the nanny's last day, and we'll have to handle everything ourselves.

While it's a very scary situation, I'm very very happy to be in control of my home life again. I have spent the afternoon (in between feedings and changings) re-organising the feeding Most of all, I'm very glad that baby and I can finally have a chance to truly bond with each other. Creating routines of our own, getting used to each other's voices and scent again.

Yay!

Who am I kidding...

Really, whO am I trying to kid? All those happy smiley photos of me holding Baby. I'm happy with him but he sure aint happy with me.

Enjoy the little things...

When the days are tough, you've got to enjoy the little things.

Like the small dreamy smile while nursing.

The kicks of enjoyment during bath-time.

And adorable animal-themed bootees from Ah Mah.

Time usually helps...

My lactose intolerence is damn irritating. It's seems very intermittent! Some weeks I'll be especially sensitive to any type and the slightest quantity of diary producers, other weeks I can take a whole glass of milk and still feel fine.

The lactose intolerence seem to be coming back full force today. After my usual glass of mummy milk formula in the morning, I've been gassy and uncomfortable. And then came the diarrhea. Very annoying.

Then I started wondering if my lactose intolerence will affect baby. Seems like it might possibly make baby colicky - or more colicky.

While searching online for information regarding lactose intolerance and breastfeeding, I came across this very useful site.
http://www.keepkidshealthy.com/breastfeeding/guide/colic.html

I really like the tone it was written in. It encourages breastfeeding without laying on the guilt.

"Even if nothing works, time usually helps. The days and nights may seem eternal, but the weeks will fly by."

And so it seems...

... It's not the scent of the massage oils.

I will be strong...

It's been another tough day.

I spent a large part of the morning hiding and crying in bed. That was after yet another unsuccessful nursing and burping session. This was especially heartbreaking as while I've kind of gotten used to baby being fussy in the evenings, mornings were kind of like "our time". Up until this morning, he had always been good during the morning nursing sessions. There were usually smiles, happy contented looks, a few explosive poops, and he'll usually drift off to a contented sleep after feeding, burping and changing.

But this morning it was totally different. He fussed at the nipple, struggled and cried. He nursed for barely 10 minutes on each side. Then it was the same for burping. He refused to be placated even after I walked him and rocked him. And as usual, when auntie took over, all was well within a minute. :(

I barely made it back into my room before the tears came pouring out.

It's tough.

I know I can deal with a fussy baby, I can make myself deal with the sleepless nights, constant nursing/burping/changing. It will be tough and tiring, but I can handle it.

What I find near impossible to take is my darling baby preferring a stranger to his mummy.

Sigh.

But it's a good thing I have a hubby who is understanding and supportive. Though he did nearly lose his patience with me this morning. Still, I don't think he really understands how I feel. Baby does "behave" better with him.

While crying in bed today, I couldn't help but think back fondly on the times when baby was still in my tummy. When I could feel him moving and kicking within me. We were so close, we were one. It's heartbreaking that my darling baby now prefers a total stranger to me. We shared a heartbeat once, and now he cries when I carry him.

Sigh. See. The tears are threatening to flow again.

But I will be strong. I know baby loves me (I hope). It takes time.

It's one of those days...

Sigh. It's been one of those days.

Actually, it's been one of those days since yesterday. :(

I can't seem to get anything right. Baby doesn't seem to like latching on. Bottle-feeding him (by me) makes him seem miserable. Burping takes forever. I can't even seem to rock/walk baby to sleep. :(

The worst thing is when auntie takes over after I've tried to placate him for ages, he immediately calms down. He just seems miserable whenever I'm near. Sigh.

I'm currently blaming it on the strong scent of the massage oils and the jamu. I'm really hoping that's it. If not...

Sometimes I feel so down thinking that maybe baby will be much happier if other people takes care of him. It certainly seems that way for the past few days. I feel selfish sometimes, wanting to assert my "motherhood" and to maintain my "mummy-pride". I refuse to believe that my baby actually prefers the confinement nanny instead of his mummy. I insist on carrying him, feeding him, burping him, etc, even when it's obvious he doesn't want me to. It's just so hurtful to see my previously crying/screaming baby boy instantaneously turn into a docile little baby the minute the nanny takes over.

When I've calmed downed from the mothering-frenzy, I'll suddenly feel so selfish. Isn't baby's happiness and health the most important? If baby's happier when the nanny's caring for him, how can I prevent that just to protect my fragile ego?

Seems like the mother-child bond that everyone talks about is only one-way in my case. I fell in love with my darling baby boy the minute I laid eyes on him. But it seems he's not returning the love.
Baby doesn't seem to be liking mummy much... :~(

Our daily "baptism"...

Baby Ryan is a little rascal.

Bath time used to be a struggle everyday, with him screaming bloody murder and us (me, hubby, or nanny) struggling to keep hold of the wriggling little baby.

Now he seems to be enjoying it! I thought he was just getting used to the water. But noooo.... he has found fun in "baptising" us during his bath time everyday. Everyday for 4 days in a row now.

I never knew pee is that warm.

A stressful, unnerving emotional rollercoaster...

I felt like a proud, victorious mummy the day I left the hospital with baby Ryan in my arms.

I am now a mother. I've pushed a healthy screaming baby out into the world in a flood of tears and blood. I've fed my baby from my breasts. And now here I am, my baby sleeping peacefully in my arms, heading home. I can do anything!

Nope. I was wrong, again!

Within hours of reaching home, there were tears - more from me than from baby. He was hungry, I tried to feed him, but he was still hungry. And he was crying.

Hearing his cries - hungry, angry, and upset - my heart broke. I just couldn't hold back my tears.

What kind of a mother am I? Within hours of separation from the nurses help, my baby can't stop crying! I've nursed him, why is he still hungry? Why don't I have enough milk to feed my baby? Why can't I provide the best milk for him? Am I holding him wrong? Am I hurting him? Why can't I make my baby happy? Is he sick? Am I making him sick?

After the first few distraught days, I've calmed down a little. But questions like these still haunt me every once in a while. I have a feeling that they won't ever go away.

But with time and support from dear hubby and wonderful friends and family, I'm calmer now, and more confident. I know we're all on this journey together - baby, hubby, and me. We're all learning as we go. But as long as we continue to support each other on this journey, I know we can be happy.

9 months and 3 weeks ago...

... a little tadpole met a little egg.

There was an announcement by the kitchen. A tab of prescribed folic acid pills. And happy tears.

Then came 3 months of secretive nausea, giddiness and exhaustion.

The next 3 months were filled happy preparation, and eager anticipation of movement within my growing belly.

The last 3 months went by slowly. Will baby be early? We thought so.

We were wrong!

Baby wanted to take his own sweet time. I think he loves being in my belly. I loved having him in there too - but I wanted to finally meet him more!

Finally he had to be coaxed out by Dr Khi. And mummy and daddy waited a long, slow 22 hours to finally meet him.

Our little bundle of joy. Precious little one. Long-awaited little darling. Bambino. Little angel.

Ryan.