Charlotte was 5 weeks old yesterday. By this point, I figured I’d be pretty okay with leaving the house. Or having visitors. Or being any sort of a social human being in general.
I mean, new moms do that, right? They leave the house? They visit with friends? I see lots of you doing it, so I don’t think I’m just imagining things.
But HOW? How do you do it?
I am so overwhelmed. Between the baby and the pumping schedule and the fussiness and everything… I’m just sort of at a loss. And I’m tired. Really, really tired.
When I imagined maternity leave, I pictured myself going for midday coffee with the baby napping in her carrier or having lunch with friends. I never imagined that I’d be struggling with my milk supply and chained to my pump. I never imagined that leaving the house would give me such horrible anxiety that I wanted back home again the minute I left. And anxiety aside, I am truly, bone-achingly exhausted. Night time is an endless string of pumping, nursing, and bottle feeding. I have even more anxiety when the sun goes down than I do when I leave the house.
Something’s gotta give. That much I know. Every week I tell myself I’m going to do better and every week I don’t.
It’s not that I haven’t left the house at all, but I can count my excursions alone with baby on one hand. I would love to just start by taking some walks during the day, but it was 108 here today, so anything without air conditioning is out of the question.
And I’m tired of trying to schedule visitors in windows between pumping. It’s so awkward. “You stayed longer than I expected, so please excuse me for a bit while I go chain myself to a nipple vacuum.”
How am I supposed to function? My life revolves around my boobs. It’s awful. I LOVE nursing my baby. I adore it. But I also miss feeling even remotely human.
It’s so discouraging. All of this work and all of these pills for an ounce and a half every 3 hours. Sometimes I get two. One beautiful night, I got three. But mostly it’s just an ounce and a half. She can nurse until I am totally empty and she’ll still need a bottle after. It complicates things.
Please excuse my whining. This baby is my world. I adore every inch of her. But I do miss feeling like something other than a broken milk machine. I miss feeling like me.
Cute baby pictures to distract from my complaining: