Three weeks post partum today and it still feels like I haven’t gotten grip of things quite yet. Well, I feel more secure in holding him, but that doesn’t feel like an achievement. I’m still awake at night to make sure that he’s breathing when I really should sleep and I’m always as surprised when he pukes up milk on his clothes after eating. Mom was here for a week and took the nights (= the act of the year) so that plus the nanny during the days made me sometimes feel a bit useless.
Yeps, I have one single newborn child, I’m on maternity leave and yet I have a full-time nanny. This is probably considered a bit weird from Swedish perspective and I have to admit that I myself thought so for a while, but in Moscow it’s both common and affordable to have a nanny. I’m not going to justify my moral right to why I should have a nanny right now, but let’s just say that it’s really worth it. The nanny arrives at 08 in the morning when I’m feeding for the last time for the night and quite exhausted, I get myself a quick breakie and hand over the baby to the nanny while I sleep for three hours. Meanwhile, she has the task to stare at him while he is sleeping to make sure he’s still breathing and do some easy cleaning. Three hours later I come back in as a whole new and fresh person, by which I think everyone concerned is better off. Then she helps me with getting out of the house. We live on the fourth floor without an elevator and can’t keep the stroller downstairs due to the stroller maffia (= evil souls that are hacking entrance codes and steal strollers that they later sell on the black market), this means that if I want to get out of the house I first have to carry the stroller down the stairs and then the baby, and the other way around on the way back home. Something that is worth getting help with.
I have a strong sense that I would become crazy had I not have a nanny. I would have to stay indoors all day long, just the thought of it gives me claustrophobia. Add sleep deprivation to it and you have a classic case of psychosis.
Speaking of psychosis. I’m so glad that the baby blues are over. I seriously cried over ALL emotions, big as small. I got the tip to watch Clueless since it’s quite and easy plot and story, but I still cried when Cher had been robbed next to the gasoline station in the middle of the night. Anyhow, this is over now, which is greatly appreciated by my alter ego. I had an alter ego during those two weeks who could pat me on my shoulder and explain that the anxiety and crying attacks had no foundation in reality. The best medicine was to remember what it’s like to have a really bad hangover anxiety, something one survives by intellectually understanding that it’s all just chemical. My tips to anyone who will face baby blues in the near future is thus to remember your worst hangover.
… Yeps, I see that you’re writing this down, so I’d better go and pump some milk or something