I’ve had a lovely week with my baby this week, hence the lack of posts. He’s managed to vomit directly into his Dad’s drink, but has made up for it with some radiant first smiles.
He has also learned to swing his arms, which is probably a very important step in his acquisition of motor skills. This also means a) he has spent most of the week punching me in the tits b) he has been punching himself in the stomach and face, sometimes so hard that he looks at one of us in a startled and offended way as though he thinks we’ve done it.
It may have become apparent from my first post that I’m breastfeeding my baby. It’s pretty likely that I’ll be making further references to breastfeeding in my future posts (as I spend roughly 2 hours and 2 minutes a day doing it, according to the breastfeeding app on my I-pod, which generates fascinating statistics and graphs on my feeding shenanigans). This doesn’t mean that I assume everyone who is a new mum is doing it. We all know the reasons why ‘breast is best’- passing on immunity, the baby being protected against diabetes in later life, getting back in shape faster, it’s free etc.
I’ve been lucky enough to be able to breastfeed my baby in that I produce lots of milk (if I was more enterprising I’m sure I could make money from it) and my husband was able to take the first month off work, allowing me to do nothing for the first couple of weeks but change my share of colourful nappies and whack the baby onto my boob, I can, however, completely understand how lots of women are unable to do it or make the choice not to.
There are lots of pros and cons of breastfeeding. Perhaps it would be more apt to talk about things that ‘rock’ and ‘suck’ – see what I did there? It’s my best effort considering the sleep deprivation and the hours of singing ‘He’s a baby! He’s a baby!’ Shooting Stars style and other inane things to while away the days and pacify / entertain / rouse my lively little man.
Said little man has just woken up and started to cry so I’ll continue this at a later date …
Cannot believe my little baby is a whole month old already, he’s changed so much. He’s already lost his newborn look and is turning into a chunky little boy, has started making eye contact and cooing, including a particularly cute sound that he only makes when tickled with your hair. Looked back at his newborn photos yesterday and am already feeling nostalgic, and amazed that we have survived the first month and kept him alive and well despite a few minor confusions and mishaps.
We will be celebrating with some breast milk and an outing in the pram (him), a 0% Radlers and catching up with Game of Thrones providing sleep patterns allow (me).