I wonder if there is anyone out there who has put on more weight than I did in pregnancy? If you read my blog on pregnancy you’ll know that I put on over 50 per cent of my starting weight. In actual kilos I put on 32.5. That’s a lot of weight to get rid of when it’s all over. Fortunately the first 20 kilos just fell off all on their own. Part of that was all that comes out with birth and then I assume breastfeeding did the rest? But then I hit a wall. I had roughly 10 kilos to go and nothing was happening. I had the all clear form my doctor to exercise so it was time to get outside and off the couch!

I had been anticipating with excitement but dreading this all at once, for a long time. During pregnancy I didn’t do any exercise unless you count walking from my car to the office and back daily. Prior to pregnancy I was probably the fittest I’ve ever been. I was walking, running and swimming regularly. But due to some complications in trying to get pregnant, I stopped exercising altogether very abruptly. So not only did I have a lot of weight to lose, but I had some serious work ahead of me to simply regain my fitness. That was probably the hardest part of my whole weight loss journey. That and the fact that I’m incredibly impatient and expected the weight to drop off quickly. Ha ha. So naïve.

The first time I took bub out in the pram for a walk I couldn’t believe how unfit I was. I knew that the walk I was doing was pretty basic yet I was huffing and puffing all over the place. I started with a one kilometre loop and I chose a route that had me walking up as many hills as possible. I did this loop four or five times, every weekday for a few weeks and gradually got faster and less puffed. I remember early on when I was walking up a hill and could barely breath. A man out in his garden said “Come on, you can go faster than that.” I desperately wanted to say, “Hey, I just had a baby!” But I was too puffed to get any words out. Whenever stuff gets hard like this I usually just give up. But giving up was not an option. I had some stern words with myself, which covered having no clothes that fit me and not being able to do basic things in life such as cross my legs, squat or just run. Every time I felt like quitting I thought about these things. Sure I could have gone out and bought bigger clothes but then I would lose all motivation to drop the kilos. So I cycled through the one pair of maternity jeans, one pair of maternity shorts and a very limited supply of shirts. Every time I put them on I would get mad that I had no other clothing options and that would motivate me to go harder.

To my surprise and disappointment all this hard work was yielding very poor results. The scales were barely moving! How can this be? How can I drop 20 kilos with zero effort and drop nothing with all this exercise?! Frustration plus!

I was chatting with some friends about this and they told me straight up. “Walking isn’t going to do anything for your weight loss. You want to lose weight? You need to run.” Run? This was going to be difficult as I’m pretty sure I stuffed my knees in pregnancy. Carrying around an extra 30 kilos takes its toll. Plus I was quite sure my fitness levels were not quite up for running just yet. But I was keen to lose weight so I had to try.

Having always had a small build, running had never been a problem for me. But now that I had some jiggly milk makers, running was a whole new ball game. Gees, is this what it’s like for people with big boobs? Before I could start running I would have to invest in a good sports bra.

Once I got the sports bra, it was on! I started out on my first jog hoping to make it one kilometre. I’m not sure if it counts as jogging when your pace is slower than a fast walk, but it felt a lot harder than walking so I can only assume it was doing good. It has never been so hard in my life to do a basic jog. But I kept pushing myself knowing that I had to step it up if I wanted to make progress. You know when you push yourself in exercise to the point where your body wants to cry and you don’t really know why? That’s the point to which I pushed myself that day. I made it the one kilometre and was so out of breath I thought I might pass out. Although I was proud of my effort, I think I may have pushed too hard. So instead of doing that again I alternated between walking and jogging as far as I felt able, slowly trying to make that distance a bit longer.

I kept this up for a few more weeks, a combo of walking and jogging. I would hop on the scales about 10 times a day, or just any time I walked past the bathroom. I couldn’t believe how nothing was happening. I would complain to hubby and he would tell me that I was looking great. Blah blah blah. The scales weren’t moving so his words were empty to me and I told him so. “Stop looking at the scales!” He said annoyed. “I’m going to throw them in the bin. They aren’t a good indicator of all this work you’re doing. You need to measure yourself because you’re probably losing centimeters.” Whatever, I thought. If I was losing weight it would be reflecting it on the scales.

At around this point we got a bout of rain. It was only for a few days but was enough to discourage me from continuing with my daily exercise. In addition to this, I had also hurt my knees from all the jogging I was doing. So I took a break. A long break with no real intention of returning to exercise. What as the point? I wasn’t getting any results so why bother.

Every now and then hubby would subtly encourage me to get back out there. He’d call from work to see how I was going, “What are you up to today?” “Nothing I guess. Don’t really have anything on.” To which he would reply, “Why don’t you go out for a walk? You’re always happier when you’ve been out for a walk. And so is bub. It will do you both some good to get out of the house.” To which I would shrug and think, ‘can’t be bothered.’

I just had no motivation. It’s funny how we’re all motivated by different things. Sometimes it’s just a matter of finding that one thing that ignites the fire and gets us going. For me, this came from hubby giving it to me straight. One night I was sitting on the bed and hubby was in the bathroom. I don’t even remember how the topic came up. I was probably complaining about not being able to lose weight. What I do remember is that hubby said, “You know, I actually think you’ve put weight back on.” “What?!” I said, my jaw almost hitting the floor. “Yeah, you look puffy in the face and a bit pale.” “What?! Seriously? You really think I’ve put weight on?” I rushed to the mirror to have a closer inspection of myself. “Yep,” he said matter of factly. Then he added, “Because you’re not getting outside and in the sun, your skin is looking a bit pale too. And your diet is crap. You eat so much rubbish.”

This may sound a little harsh to many people but I think hubby knew this was just what I needed to hear. How dare I put weight back on! The next day I got back out there. It was pretty bad that I wasn’t losing weight, but to put it on is even worse! And he was right about my diet. It wasn’t that fantastic. The truth is that I don’t know how to diet. I’ve never had to do it before. And post pregnancy I have had some major chocolate cravings. I usually have severe chocolate cravings in the lead up to my time of the month which usually lasts about a week. But as my body is not back to it’s usual routine and hormones are probably not settled yet, I’m all over the place and have constantly been craving chocolate. I walk around feeling like I need chocolate to be able to breath, to live. That’s a hard temptation to fight.

But, all I could hear ringing in my ears were “You look like you’ve put weight on.” So I got back out there. I must admit, my heart was not in it though. I was really only doing it so I could tell hubby I was exercising and because I was horrified that I was putting weight back on. I didn’t believe that any of this exercise would help me lose weight though.

Something had to change… and it did. Big time. It all changed for me when I gave the Lose Baby Weight shakes a go. But my Lose Baby Weight journey is a story is for next week!

In pregnancy I had people tell me how babies love routine and how my baby will thrive having such a routine driven mother. I was really looking forward to it. I would get to create and maintain my own routine and my baby would apparently thrive on this. What a great team we would make!

The first few weeks at home with my newborn were really about survival. I thought about a routine but quickly realised it was too early to even think about that. At that stage he was feeding for one hour at a time and with very short breaks in between. This was not a routine I was keen to keep! So I waited for this stage to pass. As he eased up on his feeding needs, I started to write up some routine ideas for during the day. What a joke that turned out to be. Bub was not much interested in following my schedule, which I had so carefully planned out for him. So I would try again. And again. For starters he never woke at the same time each day. Not even close to the same time. Some mornings it was 6am, others 8am. So that would throw things out. Secondly, even if I stayed home and did the same things every day (which I did not want to be bound by), bub wouldn’t. I looked at other people who had their babies on a feeding and sleeping schedule. Their babies would feed and sleep at certain times every day. How are they doing this?!!! I observed bub carefully to see if he was in any sort of pattern that I could follow. Each day I would try to replicate what he had done the day before, thinking that I was following his cues. But he changed the program daily! When making plans with friends and family I would often get asked “Does that fit in with bub? When does he take a nap?” “Uh, there is no set time,” I would reply feeling like a not-so-great mother. Am I the only one that can’t get a schedule happening? Apparently babies love them, so I must not be doing a very good job!

After a few months I gave up. I realised I wasn’t going to get anywhere with my current approach so it was time to change tactics and let go of this need to have a strict routine. Instead of trying to lock my baby into a routine, I tried to learn him. I learned that if I went out to the shops or something like that, he wouldn’t ask for a feed as much as if we were at home. I guess the outside world was just too exciting. He was also a terrible feeder outside of the house in general. So to work in with this, whenever I was going out, I would make sure I gave bub a big feed just before I left. This sometimes meant stretching him out for a feed or feeding him a bit earlier than usual. It did meant I couldn’t go out for too long though as there was only so long he could go without a feed before getting extremely difficult to handle, but this wouldn’t last forever. When it came to sleeping I noticed he would get tired after about an hour and a half, although it also depended on the activities we did during his awake time and also the quality of sleep he was getting. I learned to become more aware of these things and how they affected him, and to make decisions according to all the different variables.

Taking this new approach definitely lessened the stress in my life. Once I started doing this I looked back and realised I had been quite stressed about the battle I faced every time I tried to feed him while I was out and about. I had also been quite fixated on getting him into a proper routine, as though that was some measure my mothering skills. After all, everyone else seemed to have their baby in a routine. But this new approach was working much better for me! And bub seemed to have no problem with it either.

So now, whatever happens during the night (good night or bad night) tends to set the pace for the day. Although I love routine, I must admit the flexibility I have in doing things this way really suits me! I’m not bound by certain times every day. I can work all of this around everything else going on in my life. And it’s not to the detriment of my child. The only thing we have been sort of strict on is his bedtime routine. Otherwise, for me, it’s really been about learning him and working in and around his constantly changing needs and patterns. So bub isn’t in a strict feeding and sleeping routine? Routine schmootine!

So now that I have a four-month-old baby, I’m pretty sure I have this whole thing down pat and can offer some excellent advice to other mums. LOL. I’m so kidding!!! I think the one thing I’ve learnt is that no one ever has it down pat. But if I could go back in time, knowing what I know now, here is what I would tell pregnant me, to put me at ease:

1. No one can give you excellent advice with guaranteed solutions for your child. Every child is different.
2. When receiving advice, (and you will get this weather you ask for it or not) have an open mind. Take the advice as suggestions. Some will work. Some won’t. But it’s worth trying them out if you get stuck.
3. Trial and error. Don’t be afraid to try different things. Finding solutions for your problems is really about trial and error. If one thing doesn’t work, try something else and keep trying different things until something works. Even re visit previous solutions that didn’t work before. As your child grows, they may respond differently to things.
4. Don’t research every little possible thing or read a million books. It’s likely a waste of time and money. Your child will let you know what you need to look into. If you have a child that is not sleeping well through the night, then research it. If you have a colicy child, research that. If you have low breast milk supply, research that. But there are about a gazillion different things you could research prior to having your child and it’s unlikely you will need all of it. Obviously it’s good to have a rough idea but don’t bother getting too deep into everything. On the flip side, once you learn whatever your issues may be, DO research them. Don’t accept that you’re simply someone who has low supply. There are usually things you can do to improve your situation so do yourself a favour and find out what they are. Google, community nurse, other mums, your own mum. Exhaust your resources!
5. Accept that you can’t be prepared for everything. Most of your learning will be on the job. And that’s ok.
6. Always have a mental list of things you can cycle through with your child in situations that stress you out. For me that is a screaming baby in public or really just a screaming baby. I try rocking him for a period of time, then try burping him, then patting him on your shoulder, then bouncing him or a going for a walk in the pram and so on. When you’ve finished going through whatever your options may be and your child is still crying or doing whatever it is that stresses you (and you know they’re not sick or anything), start again. Which brings me to my next point.
7. Nothing lasts forever. Whatever hardship you’re facing with your child, remember that this is a phase and will not last forever. This is your life only for now. It’s for a season.
8. Don’t rule out any methods / techniques before you have your child. Every child is different (as you will hear a lot) and you don’t know what will and won’t work. Be familiar with ways of doing things such as having your baby cry it out as opposed to the no cry sleep solution, formula vs breastfeeding, dummy vs no dummy and so on. You never know what will work for your kid or what desperate measures will drive you to do. Be open-minded.
9. Take cues from your child. I have heard so many times things like ‘babies just love routine’ and ‘babies love to be wrapped’. In the wise words of my local community nurse, “Not all adults like routine or any one thing so why would all babies like the same thing?” I personally thrive with routine and would love to have one, but my kid isn’t interested in a strict routine. He does things differently depending on the circumstances. I just have to go with that. All I can do is learn him and do my best to work in with that.
10. Go with your gut. At the end of the day, you know what you can handle, your individual circumstances and you know your baby better than anyone – including medical professionals. Go with your gut.
11. You will make mistakes. That’s ok. This is part of the journey. Learn from them and move on. You’re doing the best you can and that is better than good enough. Good on you.
12. Expectations. So much upset in life comes down to expectations that weren’t met. Road rage for instance. Doesn’t that really come down to the fact that we expect everyone else to drive in a particular way? When they don’t, we get upset. Expectations are key! Before you have a baby, talk to people who have been there and ask them for the real deal, not the fluffy version. Adjust your expectations accordingly. This may mean having no expectations.

But like I said at the start, no one can really give you any guaranteed great advice, just suggestions. And that’s all this list is - suggestions. No doubt you could write a list of your own 12 and they would be very different. If nothing else, hopefully this has given you something to think about, provided you with an interesting read or given you a starting point for how you want to prepare for being a mum. Best of luck to the new mummies-to-be!

You know how people talk about that moment when the baby first comes out? Something about an instant connection or love at first sight? I can’t say that was my experience at all. I felt instant relief. Relief that he was finally out, relief that he was safe, relief that I was no longer pregnant and relief that I could finally start the recovery process from all the damage pregnancy does to one’s body. Not to mention feeling incredibly tired. My first thoughts or feelings about my baby were more along the lines of ‘gees, he’s a big baby and ‘wow, his sack is almost bigger than his butt’ (apparently all boys come out retaining some fluid in ‘that’ area and the swelling goes down over the next few days). I can’t say that I felt like a mum instantly nor did I feel that parental love that people talk about. In fact the first few hours of my baby’s life, my mind was mostly on the excruciating pain I was feeling as the nurse was a little slow getting me pain relief after the epidural from my c-section had worn off.

During the first few weeks of my baby’s life, my thoughts were focused on the job at hand; learning to feed, changing nappies, settling him and just generally learning how to care for my baby. During this time my love for him grew but for me it was and still is about getting to know him as a person. The more I get to know him, the more I love him. In fact, I recently said to hubby, “If I had known that bub would be this awesome, I would have complained a lot less during pregnancy.” The beauty of hindsight.

It’s taken me a while to get on board with the whole idea of being a parent. Who am I kidding, I’m still not on board. I’m four months in and I still don’t really see myself as a mum. It’s a bit of a foreign thought to me. I just can’t make that switch in my head overnight. When people refer to me as a parent or a new mum it makes me kinda uncomfortable. My first thought is usually ‘who are they referring to? Oh wait, that’s me, apparently.’ So I asked a friend when she first felt like a mum. “My baby was about eight weeks old and the in-laws were visiting and he wouldn’t stop crying. My mother-in-law tried to settle him to give me a break. But he wouldn’t settle. I couldn’t stand it any more so I took him back and he settled immediately. Seemed he just wanted me. His mum.”

I have well and truly passed the eight-week mark and am still not ‘feeling it’. I know logically that I am his mum, I just haven’t felt it. I’m hoping any day now that moment happens for me.

Well, that moment happened for me today. Yes, today Monday, 22 July. Today I was shopping to kill time while my car was being serviced. I was in Big W looking for a particular Bonds onesie that I happen to love (pictured). It’s doubled over in the chest area to keep bub extra warm. Plus I love the fabric used, the stretchiness of it and this particular onesie is a bit longer which is perfect as my bub is longer than average. In case you can’t tell, I’m a tad obsessed with this onesie. I’ve only seen it in DJs before but have looked in other shops that I know stock Bonds stuff. Well today I found it in Big W, which was the highlight of my day. There were different colours as well as summer and winter versions. I felt like I had struck gold. I grabbed a few in different colours and sizes. I was just looking at a few other items on my way out of the baby section when a young woman came up to me and said something complimentary about my baby – I wasn’t really paying attention. She then said something about needing to get a gift for her niece but didn’t know what babies wear. I would usually miss that this was a cue for me to give a suggestion. I’m actually impressed with myself for picking up on this. She went on to tell me that her niece was three weeks old. I told her that I thought onesies were great and more specifically which onesie I happened to love. Knowing I’m not necessarily normal as I favour practical over cute any day, I added “but hey, that’s just me and everyone is different so she may like something different.” “Oh no,” she said, “It’s good to get this from a mum.” I don’t know why, but this made me feel super awkward which would have been apparent as I let out an awkward laugh and then got out of there as quickly as possible. This complete stranger saw me with a baby and credited me as being a mum. And she was serious. No laughter accompanied her comment. It felt strange that someone would put any faith in my knowledge as a mum. What do I know? I’ve only been at this for a few months. As I continued to walk around the shops, her words kept ringing in my head. The more I thought about it, the less (and only slightly less) awkward it felt. This might actually be the start of me feeling like I’m a mum. How strange!

Our baby was only two weeks when this topic came up. Hubby was getting ready to go back to work for the first time since we’d had our baby. I was doing baby talk to bub who was sitting in his bouncer on the kitchen bench. I jokingly said to hubby as he walked by, “So when do you want to start on the next one?” I can’t emphasise how much of a joke this was to me. “Oh yeah, as soon as you’re ready to go,” he said as he passed through the room. “Um, was that a joke?” I yelled out to him in another room. “It had better be a joke,” I said more quietly to bub sitting in front of me. As hubby walked back through the room and out the door for work, he smiled and said “Nah, let’s go straight away.” What?! Surely he was joking. One could easily assume he was joking. But something told me he wasn’t. And then he was gone – off to work.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later that I tentatively brought up the subject. I was a little scared to bring it up because I had a feeling he was dead serious. Now, hubby has a habit of avoiding serious conversations so I waited until we were in the car to bring it up – there’s no escaping me when we’re in the car. So as we were driving along I asked him “So, like, were you serious when you said you think we should start on our next kid straight away?” “Yeah.” I was a little dumbfounded. I didn’t know what to say. As I was fumbling to find the right words to respond, trying to figure out where to start, he kept going. “Look, it took us how many years to get pregnant with this one, the longer we wait, the more likely it is we have more trouble or possibly can’t even have more kids.” This isn’t as ridiculous as it sounds. We know a couple in a similar situation and it has us both freaked out. But after what I had just been through in pregnancy, there’s no way I was going to go again straight away. My challenge was to communicate this to hubby in a way that he would accept it. “Yeah, ok, but, like, I need time to recover.” “Do you want to have more than one kid?” “Yes.” “Then recovering is a luxury we can’t afford.” I love how he said it like it was that simple. At that point I didn’t have much to say as I was kinda feeling hurt by this. Being a female I tend to read into things. The fact that he even thought this way told me that he didn’t have a clue or an appreciation of what I went through just by being pregnant. If I were to become pregnant again immediately, it would break me. I consider myself to be pretty strong, but I also know my limits. And this would push me over the edge with no sign of recovering in the foreseeable future.

Hubby wouldn’t let me argue it though. No matter what excellent reasons I gave for not going again straight away, he’d just cut me off with “Do you want more children or not?” It was as though he had already decided there couldn’t possibly be a reason that would trump that argument.

At this point I realised I needed some professional reinforcement. I knew without a doubt that no medical professional would agree with my husband – actually no woman would agree with him. So I let it go for the time being and waited patiently for my postnatal appointment.

“So when would you say is a good time to go again?” I asked my obstetrician. “Two weeks ago,” he said. My eyes just about popped out of my head. “What?!” I exclaimed. “You can have sex as of two weeks ago,” he said as though I should know that. I did know that. I didn’t care about that.

Me: Oh no, I mean go again as in get pregnant again?
Doctor: Oh, I thought you meant the fun stuff. As far as getting pregnant, is that something you want to do soon?
Me: No, but my husband does. As you may recall it took us a while to get pregnant in the first place and my husband thinks that if we wait we’ll have trouble again. So he wants to go again right now. I need time to recover and I need your medical knowledge and advice to back me up.
Doctor: Well just tell me how long you want to wait and I’ll tell you that’s the amount of time you have to wait.

How awesome is my doctor?! But then he got serious and explained that I do need to give my body time to heal. He went into detail about the possibility of my cut bursting open if I got pregnant too soon as a result of not giving it enough time to fully heal. If that happened then I would lose my baby and my uterus. Talk about not having any more children! He advised me to wait two years before getting pregnant if I wanted to have a vaginal birth and waiting about six months if I was happy to have another c-section. He warned that it would be a guaranteed c-section if I got pregnant within the next two years. I thought that sounded like a very solid argument to wait. My cut bursting open had me a little freaked out I must admit.

When I got home I relayed this conversation to hubby. As I suspected there was no arguing with that! Finally we were both agreed. We would wait to have more children. Crisis averted, sanity saved. I could now enjoy being pregnant-free without fear of it happening again too soon. What a load off!

So if I’m going to be perfectly honest I should probably start by admitting that I’m one of those people. Which people? The ones that judge parents out in public with naughty children. I have seen kids throwing tantrums in grocery shops and watch parents let them get away with it. Now that I’m a bit older and hopefully a tad wiser, I realise I truly had no idea what anyone was getting away with, if in fact they were getting away with anything. How could I? I was witnessing one tiny scene without having watched the rest of the play.

Because I used to be like this, when I went out in public with my new baby I felt like everyone was judging me. It was probably also due to my complete lack of confidence in my parenting ability. I haven’t been around young kids or babies much in my life so I really have no clue what I’m doing. Everything I do is my best guess. Bub would be crying and I wondered if people were thinking that I should be comforting him more, or maybe they thought I was comforting him too much. These thoughts can do your head in and they were consuming too much of my mind. It was time to pull myself together. I was far too tired to waste time and energy thinking about what strangers might be thinking of me and my parenting. Who are they to judge? They don’t know me, my baby or our situation. Why give mere strangers power? No more! I vowed to step out in public with confidence and give all my energy and attention to my baby. Easier said than done, but sometimes you have to fake it til you make it. Eventually I will genuinely feel, and more importantly act this way.

But what about family? That’s a different category. I’m all for constructive feedback. In fact I welcome it. I’m the first to admit I don’t know what I’m doing. This doesn’t mean I will take on every suggestion, but I’m open to hearing it. Someone in my family whose feedback I have great respect for is my dad. We have a similar way of thinking. I have often gone to him for advice and place a lot of value on what he has to say. So I was a little surprised when he said… oh wait, I have to back it up. In order for this to make sense I need to go back about a month or so.

So there was a time when all of a sudden my excellent little feeder stopped being so excellent. He never had any problem going on the boob. In fact, the boob was a guaranteed silencer. If he was crying or upset, I’d offer him some milk and he’d go from wah wah wah to gulp gulp gulp in under a second. But all of a sudden it had become a battle just to get him on. This was really annoying during the day, but at least I could just wait a bit and try again. But our nighttime routine relied heavily upon him feeding, as this is what put him to sleep and kept him asleep for so long. So after his shower, I would dress him and get him all ready for his pre bed feed. I’d ‘assume the position’ and before I could even get him on he would start crying. He’d do a bit of head banging and arching his back and throwing his arms around. He was really unsettled. I had no idea what was going on so I called my sister to see what she thought.

Sister:     Hmmm, are you into baby wearing?
Me:         Well, I have a carrier.
Sister:     Why don’t you try wearing him during the day more? He could be unsettled because he’s not being held enough.
Me:         What? Can that seriously make him like this? Not holding him enough?
Sister:     Think about it. In third world countries mothers co sleep and wear their babies all the time. Do you see those                        babies crying?

I honestly didn’t know how much those babies cried. I’d never looked into it. But perhaps she had a point. I had nothing to lose in trying it. Thankfully it was the weekend and I had hubby home to help me. “Right, between the two of us we need to hold this kid as much as possible today.” I told him. So we passed him back and forth and didn’t put him down much at all. It was hard work but we committed to it to see if it would make a difference.

That night when I went to feed bub for bed, he went straight on, fed for an hour and drifted off to sleep. I was really surprised. I also felt terrible. I’m a bad mother! I haven’t been holding my baby enough. I couldn’t believe the effect this had on him. This was going to be harder for me to keep up during the week when I had him on my own, but at least we’d solved the mystery.

As the weeks went by I did my best to hold him as much as possible during the day. But holding or wearing him was rather restrictive so I couldn’t do it non-stop. I just did the best that I could. Sometimes my best wasn’t good enough and this was evident through bub’s unsettled behaviour. So I’d have to try harder. I would also try to make the most of having hubby home on the weekend. Kinda like trying to overdose bub on love for two days and hoping it would last a little into the week. Ha ha. Nice thought. At the end of the day it wasn’t practical to carry him ALL day but I learned to stop and give him extra time and attention if he seemed agitated. At the same time, I don’t think it’s a bad thing for babies to cry so I would still let him cry a bit too. I guess it’s all about balance and if anyone has figured out a formula for the perfect balance, I’d love to hear it.

Anyway… so when I felt I could handle it, I decided to take a trip to visit my parents with my baby. It was just a short plane ride but it meant taking bub out of his home environment for a few days. Hubby had to work so he didn’t come. I was on my own.

At this time, my sister, her husband and children were also staying with my parents. Having kids there made it a lot more fun than my usual visits. But it also meant that I wasn’t comfortable putting bub down like I normally would. At home I would put him on my bed, the couch or in his bouncer on the floor or bench. I could do this and walk away to do whatever I needed to do. But with kids around under the age of five, I couldn’t exactly do this and leave him unattended. It was more work for me but it was only a few days so I wasn’t too worried. Plus, with bub in a different environment, I thought it was probably good for him to be held more to give him some extra security.

Well, my dad obviously observed all of this and when I spoke to him on the phone a week later I was surprised at what he said. I was saying how it was difficult to do some things when I had a needy baby that wants to be held all the time. And you know what my dad said? “He’s only that way because you’ve made him like that.” I was shocked. “What? I’ve made him needy?” “Yes. You’ve conditioned him to be needy, so that’s why he’s like that. But he’s a first child so I’m sure you’ll learn with your others. You’re not as bad as some people. But you’re pretty quick to pick him up when he cries.” Gees, if only he saw how much I let him cry at home before I pick him up. I had to stop and take a moment at this stage. I have a lot of respect for my dad’s opinion but this particular ‘feedback’ was based on his observations of me and my child staying in someone else’s house in unusual circumstances. He had no knowledge of the issue I thought I had just resolved with not holding my baby enough nor how I had changed my routine being in a different home for a few days.

My initial thought was to justify and explain all that he didn’t know. I thought it should be brought to his attention that he was a bit too quick to judge without all the facts. Maybe he would see things differently if he knew the background. But then I realised this isn’t the last time something like this is going to happen. If I feel the need to explain and justify my actions every time someone has a comment on my parenting, then I will be doing that the rest of my life. People are always going to judge or give me feedback that I don’t agree with. There’s nothing I can do to stop this. So instead I decided to take this opportunity to practise how to handle this sort of feedback. It’s hard when it comes from someone you respect, but at the end of the day there was way too much information he didn’t have. I have the whole picture, he has a small part of it. And although I trust my dad’s judgment, I trust my judgment of his judgment more – if that makes sense. He’d spent all of five days around my baby so this time I was choosing to discard his feedback. After all, can you really hold a newborn too much?

As we drove to the doctor to have the circumcision done, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for bub in the back seat, blissfully unaware of what was to come.

We were the first appointment for the day. The first thing they did was apply a numbing cream on bub’s penis. We then had to wait an hour while this worked. We were both surprised at how many babies were arriving to have the snip also. The hospital had made out like it was an old barbaric thing to do and that no one does it any more. But I could see for myself that plenty of people were doing it. I made a joke to hubby as I watched more babies come in. “I dare you to ask someone if their baby is a boy or a girl.” All I got was a token smile from hubby. Come on, that was funny!

When the hour had passed they were ready for bub. They told us that we could either be present or not for the procedure, it was our choice. We both chose to stay. How could I leave poor bub to go through this alone? I’d feel way too mean. The doctor started doing his thing with his assistant on his right. From where I was I couldn’t see what was happening. I could just see bubs face. It wasn’t long before he started to cry. The crying got worse. And worse. And worse. I started hearing cries that I had not yet heard. It was horrible watching him scream like that. At this point, the stupid assistant lady turned around and said to me “This is hurting him you know.” No, really? Idiot. I felt like punching her in the face. I looked to my left where hubby was standing. He had his sunnies on. I knew what this meant. He was crying. And it was confirmed when I saw him wipe a tear away that slipped out from under his sunnies. I wondered what our kids would think of our differences when they’re old enough to understand. You know, when they are sad and need comfort, will they go to dad? And when they’re in need of practical help in their life will they come to me? Will they think it’s weird that they don’t have stereotypical parents? Although does that really exist anymore? My thoughts were then interrupted.

“Almost done,” the doctor said as bub continued to scream. I may not be crying like hubby, but I still found this quite heart wrenching and torturous to watch. Long term gain, long term gain, I kept telling myself.

I could see the doctor was wrapping up and knew that before either of us could pick him up in an attempt to comfort him, he would need a nappy. I grabbed one from my bag as hubby pushed his way to bub. No one was going to stop him from picking bub up the second he could. “You’ll need this,” I said as I handed him the nappy. He was in a bit of a fluster and I think would have just picked him up without a nappy if I hadn’t handed him one.

Meanwhile, I left the room so I could go out to the waiting room to get ready to breastfeed, as they wanted to bring the next baby in. Just as I was ready, hubby arrived and put him straight on my boob. Bub settled right down. He fed for about 20 minutes and then fell asleep, at which point I think we both breathed a sigh of relief.

We had to wait around for another hour as the doctor needed to check to see if there was excessive bleeding. Bub woke up when this check was happening. It was all good though, so we went home. The ride home was not pleasant as bub cried most of the way. This was unusual because you could almost guarantee he would sleep when you put him in the car. He cried a lot when we got home too. Hubby had to go back to work so I was left alone with a very unhappy baby. I did all that I could to comfort him. Feed him, cuddle him, bounce him, all the while being careful how I handled him so as not to add more pain to the ‘area’. Surprisingly it was only about half an hour of this and he fell asleep.

He was a bit grizzly when he woke up but he wasn’t screaming or crying or anything like that. We showered him and got him ready for bed. It was a long night, because he woke up every hour. Oh that was painful – for us both I guess. Poor little guy was obviously out of sorts and needed some comfort. Each night after that got better though and within 48 hours he appeared to be back to normal.

I took him back one week later to have the final check and all was good. With the next kid, I think I’d have it done as close to birth as possible. Otherwise, I wouldn’t change a thing. Except maybe I would take out the assistant lady for real. :)

I realise this is a hot topic. The below is simply an account of how my husband and I arrived at a decision. We certainly do not feel that we are an authority on circumcision let alone have the right to tell others what they should or shouldn’t do. At the end of the day, we’re all making decisions for our kids that we believe are in their best interest. So we all have the same motivation even if we make different decisions.

From early on we knew we were having a boy. The decision to circumcise or not didn’t really come up as I had assumed that we would because hubby was. At some point someone asked us and I look at hubby and he said “Oh yeah, for sure.” There was someone in ear shot at the time who was obviously not in favour of this and got a bit worked up asking why we would do such a thing. To be honest, it wasn’t until this point that I realised how hot this topic was. Better keep our decision to ourselves I think. So without really discussing it, we were agreed. Until our child was born that is…

“He’s just so perfect,” my husband said. “Who am I to change anything?” What? WHAT?! Why does he always do this? He can be so indecisive and it drives me nuts! Haven’t we already made this decision? “Ok,” I said calmly. “Maybe we need to think about this some more and maybe do some research.” “Yeah, I’m just not convinced that we should have him circumcised.” So began the process of researching this all a little more.

We asked a nurse about circumcision while we were in the hospital. She had obviously been trained not to tell us what to do yet it was clear to us that she was against it. Giving us such one sided and biased info, we were not satisfied, so she suggested we chat with the pediatrician the next time he came by. We had a very similar conversation with him though. He was giving us all the reasons against and not really any in favour of circumcision. I didn’t appreciate the one sided view we were getting. I thought it was really unprofessional. I’m also suspicious when someone can only see one side of something. It kinda shoots their credibility in the foot.

We left the hospital having not made a decision. My husband spoke with his parents and I spoke with mine. Both our parents were in favour of circumcision and couldn’t understand why we were questioning it. I decided to play a little devil’s advocate. “If we’re Christians and believe that God created us perfectly, then why would we change our bodies in such a permanent way?” I asked my mum. Her response consisted of things such as we have diseases these days that weren’t around back then, hygiene issues etc. All things I had heard before. I was still in favour of circumcision, but I did have some questions as it didn’t make perfect sense to me. My husband asked his mum, “Well what reason did you have for circumcising me?” “Your father wanted you to look like him, but I wanted to do it because as a nurse, I’ve seen what happens to men when they’re older if they don’t take care of it, ” she responded. “Also, cervical cancer and other sexually transmitted diseases are very low in Jewish communities due to circumcision.”

Despite how I felt about it, I told hubby it was his decision. He knew where I stood but as he is the one with the equipment in question, it was his decision.

He felt very strongly that whatever decision he made, it had to be for the right reasons. I guess he would have to answer for it one day and wanted a good solid reason that was in the best interest of our child. “Women have no business having an opinion on circumcision. What do they know?” He asked me all worked up. “It’s like me thinking I can give advice on breast augmentation.” “I agree honey. That’s why I’m leaving this up to you,” I responded. He continued to question, “How can anyone say for or against unless they’ve experienced both? Everyone is biased and can really only talk about the one experience they’ve had. I don’t even know what it’s like to have a foreskin so I don’t know what to do. I need more time.”

Hubby said nothing more about this for a few weeks while I did my best to keep my mouth shut and not bug him about it. I was getting more and more anxious as circumcision is best done when the baby is under three weeks old. It’s really difficult to find someone that will do it after six weeks. The cost is also at its lowest prior to six weeks. Not that the cost is low in any way ($500!) but if we were going to do it, we really didn’t have time to fluff around.

Finally I got the call. Hubby was on a break at work when he called me. “Ok, I’ve made a decision,” he said. By this point, bub was four weeks old so our window of opportunity was getting smaller. “I stumbled across this blog,” he began. He then proceeded to tell me about this guy that grew up uncircumcised and then ended up getting circumcised in his 30s. Having experienced both, I knew hubby would see this guy as a credible source. What stuck out to me from this conversation was that this guy could actually smell uncircumcised men as apparently they have a different smell, no matter how clean they are. Hubby quite liked this blog as a lot of the information he came across prior to this was mostly unsubstantiated facts or highly opinionated (emotional) people whose agenda was to convince and condemn. This guy though, was simply sharing his experience – no fluff, no agenda, no judgment, straight to the point. Based on this information, hubby decided that we would circumcise our son. With confidence we made an appointment to have bub circumcised.

For those interested, this is the above mentioned blog:  http://www.circinfo.net/men_circumcised_as_adults_tell_it_as_it_is.html.

The drive home from the hospital was so strange. We had a baby. We had a baby! All the cars around us seemed to be flying by as though they didn’t care that we had a baby in the car. Wait a minute, they didn’t care! Ha ha.

When we got home, I decided the first order of business was a tour of the house. So I took bub for a walk and told him what everything was. That was fruitless. He couldn’t care less. At this point I felt a little lost. What am I supposed to do now? Do we hold him? Do we put him down? What do we do? Our life in hospital had been confined to one room and there was only one spot to put him. Now we had a whole house to work with. I was pretty keen to unpack and get sorted with all of our luggage so I left bub with hubby and set to work with that.

The first few days were pretty easy as he slept a lot. I still had hubby at home for another week before he had to go back to work. It would usually get to 10pm when we were ready for bed and I realised we had to put bub to bed. So I’d do a feed, he’d fall asleep and I’d put him down. This took about one to two hours so it was usually 11pm by the time bub was actually down for the night. But he slept for six-ish hours so I was pretty happy with that. It seemed that he was born with the knowledge of night and day. I am so grateful for this as I have heard they come out not knowing. For the first few weeks it didn’t crossed my mind to start the process of getting him to bed earlier. We had many habits that were yet to change. Prior to having a baby, 6pm until 9pm was usually prime time for getting tea ready, watching telly and just generally relaxing. But for the moment, I kept going with this non-routine-put-him-to-bed-whenever because, as I have mentioned before, I know nothing about babies. We had a few bad nights with him being so gassy, but some more experienced mums on Facebook got us onto Infants Friend, which was a big help.

The next big step for me as a mother was the day hubby went back to work. This would be the first time I was left alone with a baby. I hoped he’d have a short day and be home early, or at least have time to stop in for lunch.

Bub was awake when hubby left for work at around 8.30am and I was too scared to put him down anywhere as he seemed to cry when this happened. So I carried him around with me as I took rubbish out to the bin, put a load of washing on and made myself some breaky. It was only about 9.30am when I heard hubby pulling into the driveway. Yes! Hubby walked in the door and said “I have half an hour to kill so I came home. You want me to take him?” “Yes!” I said with excitement. This was awesome! But it wasn’t long before he left again. This time I thought I’d attempt putting him down somewhere. So I put him in his bouncer on the kitchen bench. He seemed pretty happy there so I decided I’d clean out some shelves in the pantry. Maybe he knew I was nervous being home alone with him so he was being a very good boy. Before I knew it he had fallen asleep in his bouncer, so I carried him to his cot where he slept for a few hours. Wow, this is easy. If only it stayed that easy! When he woke up, I fed him and then he had some awake time. I felt so stuck as to what to do with him during his awake time though. He didn’t want to chat and didn’t know how to play. How does one entertain a two-week old baby?!

For the most part bub was pretty good and over time I learned how to handle being with him when he was awake. Mostly I’d put him in his bouncer, bounce him and have a one sided conversation with him. It was still too early to get him into a routine I felt. I had read a little on establishing routines with your baby from birth but there was no way this kid would do that. I’m the routine queen. I love them. Actually, I need routine for my own sanity. But this kid was all over the place and just wouldn’t bow to a routine – not yet anyway. I still had hope for the future though!

He was feeding every one to two hours unless he was sleeping, which was super annoying. I found this really hard as I had very little time from the moment I finished feeding before he was hungry again. I came to inwardly groan every time I heard hubby say “I think he’s hungry.” No! No he’s not. Leave me alone. Go away. I had such little time to simply eat, go to the toilet, catch my breath and so on. Hubby had hours to himself because bub was always feeding! I would feed bub just before having a shower and by the time I got out, hubby was standing there with him saying, “I think he’s hungry.” It seemed like that was an easy out for hubby. He wasn’t able to feed bub so he would just say he’s hungry and then I’d have to deal with him. I learned very quickly to take my sweet time in the shower because it was the only few minutes of alone time AKA sanity I would get in a day. Plus I had missed having long hot showers during pregnancy so I thought I deserved to enjoy a shower again.

After seeking some advice from family and friends who suggested I don’t let bub feed less than two hours apart, I decided to implement that. This made a huge difference to my sanity and didn’t seem to upset bub at all. Was probably good for him to stretch out his feeds. It was also good for hubby who couldn’t palm bub off to me any time he got fussy saying “I think he’s hungry.” Win win win!

The worst time we had with bub was when my caesarian cut got infected and I had to go on antibiotics at around week three. Oh my goodness! This went through my milk and really upset bub. My doctor had said it could cause diarrhea and to watch for that, but that was all he said. Bub would just scream and scream and nothing would settle him. His poos went from yellow to green to almost black. I had to take the antibiotics for five days, which doesn’t sound like long, but when you have an inconsolable baby, it feels like forever. It was so bad at one stage that hubby suggested I stop taking the antibiotics. “No way!” I said. “If I stop taking them now, I’m just going to have to start all over again when we realise that my wound is still infected. We’ve come too far to do that.” In chatting with my family, someone suggested we switch to formula. “Oh no, don’t do that,” said my mum, “you’ll lose your supply.” “No, she can just express,” replied my dad. They argued about this for a bit and how expressing wouldn’t keep my supply up enough bla bla bla. But I couldn’t bear doing this to bub anymore so we bought some formula and tried that out for a few days. It was extremely difficult preparing a bottle and pumping at the same time. I have to give credit to all the mums who do formula. That was hard work and I only had to do it for a few days. Switching to formula was a great idea though as bub settled more, but not completely, and his poos returned to a normal colour. Once I had finished taking the antibiotics, it took a week or so for bub to settle completely. I suppose it took that long for the drugs to work their way out of his system. What a nightmare.

Wound care became top priority as my cut was still open and bleeding at one end, so I needed to clean and dress it every day. It continued to bleed and puss until about week seven. Crazy! I had been on blood thinners though for a blood condition I have and I believe this contributed to it not healing as quickly. I was supposed to stay on thinners for six weeks post birth but I made an executive decision and stopped at three weeks (unbeknown to my doctor) as I could see my wound was not going to close up and this put me at risk of getting it infected again. If it got infected, I’d have to go through the antibiotic nightmare again. No thank you! It didn’t help that every time I changed bub he would kick me right where my cut was. Thanks pal!

These first few weeks at home were such a learning experience, not just in regards to how to be a mother, but also learning my son and what he was like. It’s hard work and just so constant and tiring, but I have to say my first impression of motherhood was pretty positive. I think I’m going to love being a mum… now who could have seen that coming?!

I have never been so tired in my entire life. I had been awake for well over 24 hours. We had spent much of the day with midwives coming into our room to milk me. Well, that’s how it felt. They did not hesitate to grab my boobs and squeeze away or shove my nipple in bubs mouth in an attempt to show him how to feed. There was a lot of squeezing, which was quite painful, and it produced very little return.

At some point on that first morning someone had told me I wasn’t able to get out of bed until the next day. “What?!” I had no idea this was the case. When the anesthetist told me I’d have feeling back by 10am, in my bleary state I had foolishly thought that meant I’d be up and about by 10am. “Oh no,” exclaimed the nurse, “you’re not going anywhere today.” A caesar was the only thing I had barely researched because it was my absolute last option. I was surprised and annoyed at first, but then I came to see being bed bound as a great thing. First of all, I was pretty comfortable and had a remote control to move my bed up and down. I’m pretty sure this was the same bed from the night before, only now it felt like a bed of clouds. It’s amazing what lack of sleep, dropping some kilos and lying on your back can do. I think I got the best sleep I’ve ever gotten. Secondly, I realised around mid afternoon that I had a catheter in. This was the best news ever! Having to go to the loo is one of life’s annoyances if you ask me. And it’s way worse during pregnancy so I thought this was great! With this new bit of information, I started to drink like there was no tomorrow. I went through so much water. The poor nurse was surprised that all of a sudden my pee bucket was filling up so quickly. But honestly, when would I get this chance again? And lastly, the good thing about being stuck in bed was that anytime bub was upset or needed feeding, hubby had to get up and bring him to me. Or if he needed a nappy change, hubby had to do it. Or if I needed my food brought to me, hubby had to do it. Hey, I carried his child for over nine months, he can bring me stuff for 24 hours. I was also yet to change my first nappy. I mean my first nappy ever. So delaying this was not bad either.

Poor bub was so keen to feed but was struggling to get it right. The midwives were great at teaching him though. It was quite frustrating, but by the end of the first day he pretty well had it. I still had to help him each time, but together we would get it right and he would just suck away for hours and then fall asleep. While he slept I loved watching his facial expressions. He’d smile, then raise his eyebrows, then frown and so on. I found it very amusing. I was surprised to learn that he was a noisy sleeper though. Apparently all babies make noises while they sleep. This made it hard during the night to know if he was awake or not as I couldn’t get up to check.

Day two arrived, the day I was allowed to get up. It was midday before the nurse had a chance to help me. I had been bed ridden for over 32 hours. When I got up, I noticed the weight of my belly was still quite heavy and I certainly was not able to stand up straight. I was on a lot of pain killers so I didn’t feel pain, I just had no strength. I was keen to see my scar, but my belly was blocking my view from all angles. I so enjoyed my shower though and also inspected my body post birth. Belly was still huge. Although I had been particularly big in my pregnancy so it shouldn’t have surprised me that I was still quite big. My ankles were a lot smaller, but otherwise not much had changed. How disappointing.

I was pretty slow to do anything at first but as the days went on I got a little quicker. It was such a treat when hubby suggested we go for a walk outside of our room. I hadn’t been out of our room since we arrived and it was day three. We just did a loop on our floor but it was good to get out and walk, even though I looked like an old lady hobbled over. 

Right off the bat, we learned we had a windy baby. We spent the wee hours of the morning trying to soothe him. Nothing was working. Of course we didn’t know wind was the problem at the time. We had a fantastic midwife come into our room and show us all the different burping techniques, which seemed to really settle bub. Hubby learned quickly how to do this, which helped bub a lot. But one night, perhaps I should say one morning as it was about 2am, bub’s gas was so bad and nothing we did was working. We pressed that magic yellow button that makes a midwife appear. She offered to take our baby away. What? Do they really do this? Am I a bad mother if I let them take him because I can’t keep my eyes open? Hubby was super keen to take this offer up. “Yes, thank you, please take him.” Oh, I wasn’t sure how I felt about this but bub was being wheeled out of the room before I had time to process. They brought him back a few hours later when he needed a feed and I realised that the world hadn’t caved in. I still wasn’t sure if I felt ok about palming him off though.

The next night they came in around midnight and took him again. I decided I needed to make the most of it and get some sleep. I think this is what people mean when they tell you to make the most of being in hospital. I woke up at 6am and bub wasn’t back. I thought that was weird as he was such a hungry baby. I felt quite anxious so I got up and went to the reception desk. I tried to act casual as I asked where my baby was. “He’s still sleeping in the nursery. Would you like us to get him?” I couldn’t believe he was still sleeping. Who was I to disturb him just to ease my anxiety? “No, that’s ok, let him sleep.” I said. But I hung around the area thinking he’d wake up at any moment. Then I went back to our room, then reception, then our room and reception again. I kept doing this until hubby woke up. Clearly he wasn’t worried. By now it was about 7am so we went together to get bub, who was still sleeping. By the time we had wheeled him back to our room, he was stirring and just about ready for a feed.

We had decided we weren’t going to have visitors in hospital. It was a decision we wrestled with for quite some time in the lead up to the birth. Once we were at the hospital though, we felt confident that this was the right decision. For us, having visitors would have added way too much pressure and stress to a situation that was already super overwhelming. The funny thing was that the midwives almost cheered us when we told them this. They were very quick to say that this is not the time for visitors and that visitors would be better taken at home. Clearly visitors got in their way, which hadn’t crossed my mind when making this decision. We may have offended some people in doing this (I hope not) but it turned out to be the best decision for us. If there is a time in your life not to oblige others, this is it. Plus, if there is a time in your life that others will understand, this is it. I have no idea how we filled our days but every day was busy and any spare moments or down time we had were used to rest, sleep and catch our breath.

Because I had a caesar the expected stay in hospital was five nights. Including the night I was induced, that makes six. So when it came time to go home, I had become so reliant on the midwives, not to mention the food service, that I felt quite uneasy about leaving. It was like taking away my training wheels before I was ready (which my dad actually did to me when I was four by the way). We had only known our baby in this environment, which happened to have medical staff on hand 24 hours a day. Hubby was totally fine though and keen to get out of there. I don’t know anyone who knows less about babies than me, but here I was walking out of the hospital with a newborn. All I could do now was hold on for the ride.