6: The number of weeks old Celia is now.
3: The number of dinners out I’ve eaten since Celia was born, the furthest away of which was less than a mile from my house, in Clerkenwell (Bistro Bruno Loubet, if you must know, and yes, the boudin blanc is still delish and the time limit on tables seems to have disappeared).
Jon and I are lucky to have babysitting right now. Unfortunately, it turns out that even with babysitting readily available, it takes a lot of effort to go out to dinner because (a) we’re pretty tired; and (b) it seems that feeding the baby isn’t easily done without yours truly if you’re following all the medical and social “recommendations” to breastfeed.
You’d think that, being well educated and generally confident, I’d find it easy to do what I want to do. But like most new mothers, I’ve been tying my sanity and quality of life to the “goal” of breastfeeding Celia. Although the food scene is the last thing on my mind right now, I’m still constantly thinking about food — Celia’s.
Here are several now-obvious things about feeding Celia that I hadn’t realized before bringing her home from the hospital:
- She eats little but often. Whether you’re giving her the boob or the bottle, someone’s got to be up and feeding her, say, every three hours around the clock. Subtract out the feeding time from this 3-hour period, and you’re looking at maybe 1.5 hours to yourself, max. During this 1.5 -hour period, you’re supposed to do things like sleep and feed yourself. Good luck.
- Giving her the boob is incredibly tedious. Is there such a thing as hands-free Internet? Because watching TV or listening to audiobooks or radio isn’t my thing.
- Giving her the boob hurts. As another new mum said to me this week, babies are practically feral when they’re eating. Now picture this ravenous little animal on your boob for 30 minutes at a time, 8 times a day. (It sucks. Ha ha).
I’ve got Celia on a mix of boob and formula now. The formula gives me a lot more freedom to get out of the house, mostly because I couldn’t get the hang of busting out a boob when out and about. (Even at “baby-friendly” places like John Lewis, which have a dedicated space for nursing mums, the nursing room is depressing and unpleasant).
I hear that breastfeeding works great for a lot of women, but for me, not so much. Don’t ask me why I haven’t given up the breastfeeding altogether, though. I guess all the medical and social pressure to breastfeed worked me over more thoroughly than I suspected.
I take Celia out with me for lunches these days, but not for dinners, and lunch tends to be within a 1/2-mile radius of home and at places you wouldn’t consider a destination. I’m trending towards creating a lunch-only restaurant blog, but wondering if that’s worth the time and energy, both of which are in desperately short supply these days.
I do love my blog and hate to see it go, hence the dilemma. The traveling-with-baby blog idea sounds fun except that even the most ambitious travel-loving parents I know will travel only every two or three months. I’d be short on content, I reckon.
Long story short: I’m still figuring out what to do with this blog. It’s just one of the many parts of my life I’m trying to adjust post-baby. Thanks to everyone who’s still with me.