I woke up this morning feeling very lucky (and it wasn’t just because Jill konked out at 8:15 and was still asleep). I’m lucky because I have a wonderful husband and a healthy, happy baby. I stayed in bed for a few minutes listening to Tony sleep, Rachael snore from her bed at the foot of ours, and Jill stir from her crib in the other room. I woke up before the alarm and just enjoyed the noises of our house, our family. I’ll be 30 on Thursday and I have a family. When did this happen?!
Motherhood has proven a BIG adjustment so far. I consider myself a pretty relaxed person – but really – what an adjustment! I’ve had a few crying spells. I’ve had a few freak out I-can’t-handle-this fits. And Tony has always brought me back down to planet Earth. Take yesterday when I was being an unreasonable stressball. Mondays are tough for new Moms, there’s no doubt about it. I missed Jill a lot. The weather was gorgeous this weekend and work was the last place I wanted to be. I pumped very little milk (from previous posts you know production is a challenge in the first place) in the morning, which is when I’m used to seeing the most. I was in the lactation room flailing around too quickly when I bumped one of the containers and it fell. Milk split. I cried. Crying turned into sobbing turned into mascara running. I was a mess. I talked to Tony and he didn’t sound very sympathetic. (In his defense, I’m sure he was busy at work and I caught him offguard.) Moments later, he sent me a sweet email that I was a great Mom and I was doing the best that I could with Jill’s breast milk supply. There is formula these days, he reminded me. Meanwhile, I emailed with my fellow new Mom co-worker/lactation room occupant. She completely understood my emotional concern but, as she said, “there’s no need to cry over split milk.”