I haven’t peed, eaten, or hydrated in 2 hours and my body is telling me desperately that I should have done all of those things half an hour ago. Theo’s taking in so much milk he’s peed through his diaper twice. His eyes are beautiful. And wild.
After breastfeeding for one hour and 30 minutes, during which time I spent the last 15 minutes sobbing, I called a lactation consultant to help with my very sore nipples. She says he’s probably going through a growth spurt and that I should discontinue dairy because his thrashing around with my nipple twisted in his mouth might be caused by gastric distress.
It’s demanding and I’m unhappy right in the nipple-twisted moment, but taking care of this tiny human feels useful the way woodworking or teaching or building something with my hands feels useful. I’m surprised by my enthusiasm for it.