Tomorrow, our wee lad will be six weeks old. This is a magic number for me because so many people have told me that things will get easier from now on. I cannot believe it was only six weeks ago that the Postie and I had lunch at Ernesto's, did a few chores and trundled up to the hospital to have Harper. We took pictures of me beside the sign pointing to the delivery suite, and when I was admitted to ward 12, we chuckled about the view of Hutchison Road from my window - for me that road will always be where a bus load of people went past while I was sick in the gutter as I walked to work, back in the bad old days of morning sickness. Being in that room knowing my pregnancy was about to end felt like the end of a long, arduous but exciting journey. I feel nostalgic for the good bits of it now and then.
During our week in Auckland I noticed a few things going a bit wrong - H started to cry after feeds and his latching onto my bosom was a bit sloppy. This got worse when we came home, and developed into a ear-shattering scream after feeds and he refused to eat at times. He's been diagnosed as having reflux, which while it's not as bad as being told your child has some life-threatening condition, is still heart breaking, for want of a better word. Hearing him cry in pain and knowing there is little I can do about it is tough - I want to immediately give him some magic remedy to take the pain away or call someone for help. I have to remind myself that while Harper is only six weeks old, I have only been a mother for six weeks, and to go easy on myself when things aren't Madonna-and-child-esque. I'm very impatient, and Harper forces me to slow down. So it's 3am and all I want to do is go back to bed, but he needs to sit upright for half an hour before having the rest of his feed? Like my sister said to me when I was freaking out about becoming a mother - you just do it. You rise to the challenge and then they challenge the challenge. It's like Survivor: Newborn.
To try and help this relux go away, I'm endeavouring to follow a dairy-free diet for a few weeks to see if it could be a reaction to cow's milk. I LOVE dairy so this will be hard for me, but not as hard as hearing that screech when Harper's in pain. I swear my ears ring afterwards.
Otherwise, H is just dandy. He smiles and chats and is generally a hit with the ladies. A plunket nurse warned me the other day that we'll have to watch him when he's older.