I have come to that stage where I am exiting what is referred to as The Newborn Haze. All of a sudden you start to see the world a lot clearer, start to regain some clarity of self, look around and go “oh holy crap the world has kept moving without me!” I have realised it, and I must must must write about the haze before the experience loses freshness. Because I know soon enough the memory will grow mould, decay, turn into amazing fertiliser, then sprout some gorgeous garden of eden so that when I look back I only see roses. Birth is intense… I don’t care if it is good bad or ugly…it is still a huge physical and emotional journey. And a bloody amazing achievement, GO YOU GOOD WOMEN OF EARTH! But to be honest the bigger challenge for me is those first few weeks.
Day and night blur into one as a cocktail of hormones engulf every corner of my body. Oh my body… that “squatting like a cross fit demon” I did during birth…ahhh yeah I didn’t train for that… and I can now feel it in every muscle running up my legs and around my gorgeously squishy postpartum butt. The screaming muscle awkward shuffle walk (as I like to call it) is also increased by giant absorbent pads stuffed in oversized pregnancy undies. Nothing like a month long period to keep a woman in good spirits.
BONUS! this time around I had only the tiniest of tears, but lets be honest peeing is still a deep breathing exercise. Plus I know somewhere along the line I read about the post labour contractions that get progressively more intense with each pregnancy. Ahhhh WOAH Intense…like WOAH! Nothing like a birthing flash back every time I breastfeed.
Oh and my breasts…oh wait they are not mine any more they are Ruby’s… they may be cracked and leaking and swollen into GIANT milky mountains, but they are hers and she LOVES them.
Thank all the goddesses in the heavens I am exiting the haze, and damn that gorgeous newborn in my arms has my heart one thousand times over and growing daily. But from one mum to all you others out there, when you’re shuffling around like you’ve run a marathon, feeling like a leaky old house, covered in milk and spew, eating breakfast for dinner, donned with out-of-control super soaker breasts that just shot your friend in the face… I feel you…I get it…you are AWESOME.