5 weeks and 4 days into motherhood and it’s super chilled. From what I can work out so far, it seems to be
lots of sitting with a baby guzzling your tit as if starved even if was fed 30 minutes ago,
lots of jiggling around, rocking, swaying,
talking in a stupid voice, mainly to bestow poo congratulations (what a humongous Korma-like poo that just squirted into my hand, well done!),
and quickly dashing about when he is either asleep or with a family member
to scrub poo out of nappies, hang up the washing, and other important jobs
such as eating, showering and going to the loo.
Monday mornings are to watch Sunday night’s episode of The Handmaid’s Tale.
Friday mornings are to watch Thursday’s episode of Ambulance or to go to the Healthy Child Clinic at the Children’s Centre to get him weighed and then as soon as possible to watch Thursday’s episode of Ambulance and probably to cry because it’s such an emotional programme that restores any lost faith in humanity and is amazing and I love it.
Those are the big events of the week. I think that that sums up the first few weeks of motherhood. One day it took 4 hours to go to the park.
Pregnancy has prepared you for the slow pace of life. When pregnant I could sit staring into space doing nothing for hours and couldn’t focus on anything if I did try to be productive (isn’t growing a baby enough productivity!). Once I’d finished working my biggest jobs were household chores, and it’s exactly the same now except everything takes a bit longer because you have to keep stopping to pop the baby on your boob and to rock him to sleep or to stare at him for ages when he’s being awake and sweet and not needing anything.
I’m still struggling with the concept of playing God, bequeathing life.
But I will probably forever live life on the high of giving birth. Even though from the outside life appears absolutely deathly boring, I feel excited every day.