September 17, 2009

A month ago C. gave birth to a 7 lb. 14 oz. baby boy. He got himself stuck in the birth canal and for a few minutes the doctor was not able to record a heartbeat. They tried using a vacuum to get him out, but all the succeeded in doing was splattering everyone with blood. A room was prepped for an emergency c-section. At the last moment, on the final push, C. was born with umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. A dramatic entrance.

For a month we've stayed mostly home. C. is a strong, healthy baby, and for that we are thankful. C. is a hungry baby who does not need and does not seem to like sleep, and that is our challenge. That month is over, and though we try to but some semblance of a life together, it remains difficult. Her challenge is uncomplicated. Though there were a whole host of issues in the first couple of weeks, but now it has boiled down to fatigue and frustration. It's a monumental feat, feeding a baby 9-13 times a day, 30-60 minutes a feeding. His frequent cries make us wonder if he's eating enough. I wonder if it's possible to have a repetitive stress injury of the breasts.

My own fatigue is not nearly so great. This evening was more difficult than most. I've cobbled together perhaps a hour of my own time and this entry is being written while I really should be sleeping. For the most part, I try my best to be supportive, but there's little I can do by way of shouldering her burden. This is her task, and she makes me proud.