I would like to start off by clarifying one small ‘fib’ that I, and I’m sure many others, have been told by Mom’s around the world.

“I fell in love with my little one the minute I say her/him.”  Not true.  Protective, awestruck, shocked, full of care – Yes.  In love – No. Don’t get me wrong,  I would have jumped in front of a moving train for Molly the minute she appeared and I wanted to care for her, but I hadn’t fallen in love with her……yet.  (The actual “falling in love” with her happened about week two when we got in our groove.)  I think its important for any new Mom to know this because I thought I was a terrible person for not ‘feeling the way you were supposed to’.  (Just so you don’t think I’m a horrible person,  I now love little Molly so much I could eat her chubby little cheeks and catch myself staring at her sleeping.)

The first real day of motherhood starts off with a visit from the nurse.  She checks my incision, checks on the baby and tries to help Molly latch – SOO much more on this topic at a later date. (Side fact: your boobs will be man-handled by about 100 people when you have a baby.  Deal with it. ) The  nurse then tells me that the only way my IV is coming out is if I am able to pee.  Ha – no problem, lady; that’s no issue.  Well, jokes on me.  Not a single soul had EVER told me that after you have a catheter (which you must have if you have an epidural) going pee is pretty much the equivalent to taking a physics exam at Harvard.  After about 45 minutes of running water, hand in warm water and saying prayers (that if I’m ever able to pee again I will never take it for granted) – success!  (And yes, I realize this might be too much detail for some, but let me tell you, it’s the truth and you will thank me for it at some point if you are a Mom-to-be and for current Mom’s I bet you are laughing out loud right about now.)

The nurse comes in and gives me a high-five and then proceeds to take out my IV and tries again to help me have Molly latch. At this point, she hasn’t really had anything other than about 2ml of colostrum – I’m starting to worry just a little.  Our day is filled with some visits, a lot of diaper changes, Molly’s first bath – for which I felt I needed to take notes – and more attempts at breastfeeding.  Our day nurse tells me that she is going to get me in to see the Lactation Consultant tomorrow morning because both Molly and I need some help.

Thursday night I have a violent case of the shakes at about 1am.  “No worries,” the nurse assures me as she gives me two warming blankets – it’s either your milk coming in or your body is still in a bit of shock.  Hmmm, sounds odd to me but ok.

Friday morning we get a greeting from the nurse in charge – we are being discharged. “Sorry, excuse me! We are what?”  Suddenly I am consumed with panic.  Molly isn’t feeding, I really don’t feel good, and now they are pushing us out of our comfort zone.  My Mom jokes that she was surprised that I was so petrified.  I could handle 10 puppies being bottled fed or an orphaned foal but a tiny human baby stopped me in my tracks in terms of my confidence.  Molly and I head to the lactation consultant and after an hour of trying – still no latch but what we did have was a screaming baby and a crying Mom.  Awesome.

Now, 30 hours after a the c-section, they discharge us.  Ummm, they are seriously going to let us leave with her?!? Are there training wheels for this baby?! (If you look closely at the pic below you will see the dazed look of terror in our eyes.)

Next up on the Mom journey: Molly comes home… and I head to the emergency room.