Dear Motherhood,
The first trip to the doctor can be scary. Your brand new, don't know what is going on or what to expect, needles and syringes staring you in the face. And that's just what I'm dealing with so imagine how my daughter must feel. And we haven't even got out of bed yet...
All of friends had told me how it takes a lot longer to leave the house after you have a baby. So with confidence I set my alarm to give myself 1 hour 45 minutes instead of my pre mommy 20-30 minutes. When breastfeeding calls you do what you have to so I wasn't too bummed when my starving baby woke me up an hour before my alarm. I latch her to me thinking now I have plenty of time. Then she poops. No big deal. She has pooped before. I detach her carefully as not to wake her up. She is sound asleep. I so have this down. I slide a fresh diaper under her just in time for her to pee in it. Okay, we are still good. I'll just trash this and grab a new one. She pees again. On the sheets. I needed to wash those anyway. Over the course of the remaining time I had to get ready things got more chaotic. In short, I wound up pooping while breastfeeding, sat in the pee filled sheets while nursing, eating a bowl of cereal, and applying makeup. All of this without electricity that a mild storm had temporarily robbed me of. No bras fit my currently engorged breast so I resorted to taking scissors and cutting the built in bra out of a tank top. I deserve a trophy for the genius of it, really. All to run out the door, arrive at the exact appointment time, had held high in victory and triumph with fuzzy hair from no flat iron, spit up down my makeshift shirt, and leaking breast that have make me quite sticky. But we had done it. Then the waterworks start.
Oh the eruption of the most extreme and pitiful tears uncontrollably fall to the floor. The sheer terror of the feel and sounds of the pediatric lobby creeping up and walls closing in. It's a good thing my daughter was sound asleep in her seat so she didn't have to witness my emotional breakdown. Finally they call us back. Hesitantly I get up and follow my husband and daughter down the halls. My heart is in my throat. I'm starting to sweat. Screams of children that had gone before us coming from each door we pass just ensures our fate. As we enter the dungeon they ask us to remove her clothes. What are these monsters planning on doing!? It's cold in here! Oh no. A rectal thermometer. I can't look. I squint my eyes tight and wait for the screams of discomfort and embarrassment to escape her lungs. Silence. Okay, she survived that one. As my husband follows the nurse and carries my naked and humiliated baby to be weighed I break into sobs. How could they leave the room to lay her bare skin on those cold scales? This is some sort of mid evil torture. We must escape. The doctor comes in, quickly examines her and we are done. That's it? She didn't even cry. Only now it's time to eat. I hook her to my breast and head out the door to make her next appointment. We had done it! Victory! Bravery! Until next week when we have to come back...
I follow my husband to the car with my daughter still attached and looking a mess with makeup lines running down my face. Maybe that wasn't as bad as I thought. Perhaps my 5 day old is a million times braver than I could ever hope to me. Maybe every day in motherhood isn't a walk in the park. But at least for today I had succeeded. My daughter was healthy and full and peaceful and at the end of the day that's all that counts. So take that motherhood.
Sincerely,
The Mom
No comments:
Post a Comment