Fair warning: This post does reference the logistics of feeding a newborn.
Jr and I have been working towards becoming a self-sufficient team, which isn't as easy as I expected since we're dealing with a c-section recovery, "Bob" the ever-present and highly annoying wound vac pump, persistently high pain levels, and medications galore to be balanced and administered. Little by little we are making progress, except for those nights where the stars align against us.
Jr and I have been working towards becoming a self-sufficient team, which isn't as easy as I expected since we're dealing with a c-section recovery, "Bob" the ever-present and highly annoying wound vac pump, persistently high pain levels, and medications galore to be balanced and administered. Little by little we are making progress, except for those nights where the stars align against us.
Having always been an easily disoriented person during nighttime wakings, it's been a bit of a challenge to handle the "usual" nursing/pumping stints throughout the night in addition to the various (and rather confusing) medication doses.
Feeling particularly ambitious during a 3am pump, I decided to quietly go it alone and let the rest of the crew catch up on some much needed sleep. Having successfully gathered my supplies, I was sitting in semidarkness listening to the soft whoosh of the machine and feeling rather proud of my accomplishment when I slowly became aware of a distinct sensation - the horrifying feeling of something crawling on my arm. I carefully turned to look, praying that it was just my own hair brushing my arm, and saw the unmistakable shape of a creepy crawly making it's way up to my jugular shoulder. Mustering what calm I could, I issued a few shrieking whispers in a desperate attempt to raise Chris without waking Jr. Quickly realizing that I was on my own, I abandoned any pretense of restraint and began flailing wildly with utter disregard for the 20 minutes worth of work that was now baptizing the general vicinity.
In the end, my jugular remained intact, the spider got away, most of the baby libations were saved, and Chris and Jr remained in dreamland blissfully unaware of the maelstrom while I dragged my befuddled and milk-stained self back into bed. Somehow all of my research and baby books failed to prepare me for this type of scenario...
.JPG)
"People who say they sleep like a baby usually don't have one."
Leo J. Burke
"People who say they sleep like a baby usually don't have one."
Leo J. Burke
1 comment:
Ha so true. They go for the jugular at the most in opportune time.
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