The Silent Sisterhood

I'm happy to report a few things to you. First, despite many MANY obstacles, Eleanor's breastfeeding! Turns out her tummy doesn't care for dairy and her little bum doesn't care for soy. That doesn't leave a heck of a lot of options in the newborn meal plan. But, I took the plunge and gave up dairy (ish) and she's back on the boobie. Actually, I hate phrases like" back on the boobie" or "taking the tit" or anything else borderline vulgar like that. It just sounds so... trashy.

Wait, speaking of trashy, I'm going to digress here. This is probably going to offend a large majority of you, but I'm just gonna go for it. I have a real hard time dressing Eleanor in anything leopard print. When did this become a trend? Babies creeping around in wild animal designs? It just gives me visions of prostitutes and pole dancers and frankly, doesn't scream precious innocent baby girl. Is that really wrong and judgmental? Probably. Did I just become my mother? Certainly.

Ok, back to the good reports. Along with a more routine feeding schedule, Eleanor's also started sleeping through the night -- for the most part. Her "night" begins at wildly different times... 9, 10, 1:30. But once she goes down I get a good 6-7 hour stretch!!! Except of course, for last night. Last night she chose 10:30 as bed time which I thought was excellent until she chose 3 am as wake up time. Not cool, little E, not cool. So I got up and scrambled to get her out of her little nest before she really began screaming and then tried fumbling to get the nipple shield in place (yes, she has to use a nipple shield...topic for another day) and get her latched on and a burp rag under us so we don't start Lake Breastmilk on the mattress. All of this while half asleep, in the dark, trying not to wake the Husband or the Dog.

After all the chaos, E finished feeding and drifted back to dreamland leaving me wide awake and thinking. I began wondering how many mothers across the nation were awake doing the EXACT same thing at the EXACT same time. How many were cursing under their breath while a little one gnawed a throbbing nipple? How many stubbed a toe on the way to the kitchen to make a bottle? How many were fumbling for diapers in the dark and praying there wasn't poop on their hands? Motherhood really is a silent sisterhood. I was comforted by that thought and fell asleep quietly cheering all the selfless mamas out there and praying for those still trying.