How life changes with a baby

Say goodbye to sleep

Want to nap? You have 5 minutes, maybe 30 if you’re lucky. Your nights of sleeping uninterrupted are over. Then when you got to feed the baby, you have to put it back asleep when you’re half asleep at 2am.

 

Say goodbye to doing anything like you used too

Sometimes you can’t even take a piss when you want too — you have a screaming baby attached to your boob or hip. If you have no one around to watch her and you have errands to do, she has to come with you — and it takes anywhere from 15 minutes to an hour to get her ready and leave the house!

 

If she has a tantrum in public well…

It’s aggravating as hell and you have people looking at you like ‘stfu’. You’re thinking, she’s a baby she cries. I did everything before I left I can’t help it. Mind your business.

 

Or people need to stop you when you’re out

Comment on how cute she is blah blah blah. It’s almost like you can’t go anywhere without something happening or someone up your ass.

 

And EVERYONE wants to see her or tell you how to raise her

So be mad at me 90% of the time because I say no. She’s my daughter. You should have thought about having a relationship with me before she was even born. But now you think you’re entitled to her hahaha. If I want your help, I’ll let you know. Actually I won’t because I don’t.

Welcome to postpartum

I thought being pregnant was bad. I was wrong.

Pushing a 7 pound baby out was bad. Lot of blood and some stitches involved. Nobody told me she was coming 2 weeks early. I had a pretty healthy pregnancy with no complications.

Then she comes. I hear she has jaundice and do everything in my power to reduce it. I did everything the doctors told me to do.

Feed her every 2 hours. Get no sleep. Feel completely worthless and exhausted. This is my first.

Wish my husband would go back to work. He keeps trying to pawn her off to his parents. His mother acts like she is hers. Well then, you deal with all the fussing when she eats and the shitty diapers at 3am. She’s only around when she’s sleeping or when it’s convenient to her schedule to make herself look good.

Here comes the PTSD or what it feel like, night sweats. Like having inflamed boobs constantly and a bleeding vagina wasn’t enough.

Then I watch my mother’s boyfriend before she died write everyone a petty goodbye message. Some ‘father figure’ I haven’t spoke to him since Christmas and he never once asked me how I was when I was pregnant. Didn’t even know when I was in labor. My actual father did and surprisingly showed up at the hospital.

And the newborn. Most people don’t understand that we really are on a schedule with her right now because her condition. Everyone wants to see her. Everyone has questions. Nobody respects our privacy.