Baby J is two months old.
I’ve spent the last two months mostly in bedroom, in my bed, with baby J attached to my breasts wondering if I would ever be able to take a normal shower someday. A normal shower would be one were I’m not speeding through the lathering process, shouting “I’m almost done, I’m coming! Yes, two minutes and… here I am!” And there I was, sitting back in bed with soapy legs.
I’ve been told in the most patronizing way that it’s going to be three or five, or maybe ten years before I’m able to shave my legs in more than two minutes. Maybe I’ll be able to style my hair and paint my toenails too.
Oh, several weeks ago manfriend was propping up my legs for additional comfort while breastfeeding (see? He’s totally worth my first born) when he noticed my feet, specifically how my nails looked like the paws of a wild animal. “Your feet are a disaster! Your nails are not even painted. You should go and have them done even if they charge you one hundred bucks. You need a fixer upper.” (Almost reconsidered the previous parenthesis.)
Ja. Painted toe nails. AS IF I HAVE TWO HOURS TO FIX MY TOE NAILS. I don’t have two hours to spend on any given part of my body. I rarely have two, free, consecutive hours to do ANYTHING and when I do, I prefer to spend them doing something productive like, I don’t know… FOOD. Or EATING at normal speed with both my arms free of a cute wiggling body.
I’ve been able to do a bit more through the day progressively. I try to add one chore or task to my to-do list every two weeks and during the last month I’ve been able to maintain an almost normal level of functioning.
As Baby J learns new things she can spend a bit more time by herself, playing with her hands, watching TV. And you know what? You would think I would be relieved but I hate it. I’ve loved every single second I’ve spent with her, specially when it’s been just she and me, even those moments when she’s been
crying screaming with her face almost purple in rage because it takes me more than one second to put my tit in her mouth and it breaks my heart a bit that soon she won’t need me her every awake hour. It’s too fast!
Everyone told me it was going to go by fast, but for the love of God, I kept trying to dress her in newborn clothes even when I could see the onesies tightening around her torso because those three months onesies? GIANGIANTIC. Could not possibly fit on her. Those are for a big baby, she’s tiny! Except that, Jesus, they fit her almost perfect. OMG.
I endured leaks on her diapers for three days because in my mind she is still the little baby with the big eyes that looked at me for the first time in the hospital. I almost can’t believe she can now feed from a nurser bottle too (with my milk), in SOMEONE ELSE’S ARMS. For all I know in a couple of weeks she’ll be hoping in the car to go watch a movie. TOO FAST.
Days would be flying by in a blur without any kind of pity if it wasn’t for those amazing moments when she looks at us and smiles. Time slows down to a stop and we can live there, in the seconds were we can see her joy, that’s were everything is.
Mama loves you Baby J.