The Tragic Optimist

The view from here

The most common sight for me these last two weeks is looking down over a billowing breast (I used to have B-cups – ha) and seeing half of a gorgeous face looking back at me. It feels like pretty much all I do is nurse, which is probably close to the truth. I love the fact that I can provide all the nourishment my daughter needs – she gained 13 ounces in the last 8 days and yesterday weighted 5 lbs, 13 oz. I knew that I wanted to breastfeed, and had tried to do some reading on the subject, and took a breast feeding class a couple of weeks before Zoe was born. From those, I knew that it wouldn’t be easy at first, and I knew that it might hurt a bit – both of which were the case, though we worked things out pretty quickly. What they didn’t say, and what I wasn’t expecting, was that breastfeeding would be so…well, boring. I mean, I can stare at Zoe’s face for quite a while, but it at some point, it starts getting monotonous. During the day, I can watch tv and read emails and webpages, though typing is still tricky, but at night, there’s just not much to do, and while she’s a very good nurser, she is certainly never in a rush to hurry up and eat. I may try listening to books or radio programs on Chris’ iPod.

I still plan on writing up the full story of Zoe’s birth, though it won’t be terribly interesting. For those that can’t wait, the short version is: Water broke on drive to work just outside Lakeville. Drive to hospital. Zoe is breech. Holy crap! reality of surgery and baby slowly sinks in. 3 hours later, Zoe arrives via c-section. The end. I love happy endings.

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    1. On nursing « The Tragic Optimist
    2. Nursing past a year « The Tragic Optimist

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