A midwife appears and pulls my gown down to reveal my ginormous cans. Yes. Ginormous. I'll tell you about the joys I had shopping for maternity bras in another post... she whacks my son on my chest and I just gaze down at his tiny little head which is slightly cone shaped due to being stuck in my damn pelvis for nigh on 6 hours. He's so small!! I can't figure out who he looks like cos to me he's like a tiny old man. All red and wrinkly with perfect little hands and perfect little feet. Juffin and I are smitten immediately. I stare and stare, too scared to touch the little man. I then notice that we are surrounded by people.
In recovery we are only protected by hanging curtains and nurses, Doctor's, midwives, are coming and going. I can't be that out of it because after the 16th person pops their head into our little alcove I'm getting a bit embarrassed as that's another stranger who's seen my boobs today. I know that they're all medical people and they don't give a shit but honestly... To make matters worse, a midwife is pumping away at the breastaculars with one hand, and trying to move Max's little mouth over to them so he can get some good stuff.
At this point a normal person would be thinking: What happened to your dignity? Where has that gone? Oh, that's right, you have none, it left the building nigh on 8 hours ago. Not only have you been wheeled through the hospital at 8.30am on a Monday morning screaming blue bloody murder in the throes of labour, shown your vagina to who know's how many people, and then been exposed, literally, from the waist down to a room full of strangers you now have a strange lady pumping on your boobs... wow. That shit certainly wouldn't fly in the Mad Cow.
|Mushroom aka Maximillian - One hour old|
Next time: You've had a major operation, sitting up is hard, and breastfeeding is also damn hard!