Rise of the milk mavens

We are in the throes of the tumultuous newborn days, bringing new changes for us both. Baby girl is doing incredibly well adjusting to life on the other side of the womb. I, on the other hand, haven't had the easiest postpartum recovery. From vomiting for 9 hours post-delivery, to then developing a dangerous blood pressure condition in the days following, I initially had front row seats on the struggle bus. The juggle of being on top of the ensuing med cocktail and constant blood pressure monitoring while trying to care for a tiny human (and older tiny humans) felt like a lot. But I think we’re finally getting in the groove. My husband is an amazing dad and a pretty stellar live-in nurse, so I’m grateful for that.

Aside from my body being in a state of chaos, there are positive things happening. I lost about 25 pounds in the first 8 days alone (thank you hormonal night sweats). Meanwhile, baby girl steadily packs them on. She’s gaining 45 grams a day. Needless to say, nursing is going well. And for the most part, I find it incredibly peaceful. We are awake to feed every two to three hours at night, and during the day, we find time to laze like queens. There’s something about nurturing a baby in this way that feels serene and in many ways, healing for me. I’d forgotten how much I love the rhythmic suckling sound of a baby nursing at the breast. It regulates my body, mind, and emotional state, forcing me to slow down.

The world is slow and calm here. Even though, as a newly minted mom of three, I often feel pulled in so many directions, I’m trying not to ask more of myself. The ability to be present for the beginning of a tiny life feels like a gift. I wish it could stay this way forever.

Obviously I know it won’t, and it can’t. But I’ll enjoy it for as long as I can.