What it's like (being a mumma)

As I write, I'm sitting up waiting for the little monkey to wake for his next feed. It's as usual here. Sleep-deprived mumma desperately wanting to go to bed. Sleep-deprived daddy already in bed and promising to do the 'early' shift...but it seems that Wombat has decided to screw up the schedule..again!
So, what's it like? Being a new mother?
Well kiddies, it's a bloody hard slog most of the time. I used to be a person that "had" to have 8 hrs sleep a night or i turned into a raving lunatic. The trick is, I am still that person.
When the little wombat wakes and starts his coughing-crying combo, needs must be met! This incredibly exhausted woman drags her sorry carcass up and feeds.
Luckily, it's school holidays right now. This means that Brett and I can "share" the load...although there doesn't seem to be a magical solution in which at least one of us gets a full nights sleep...
BUT...(and it has to be said), This little person is never too much trouble. Oh yes, I get cranky and frustrated (particularly at about 3-4am), I get annoyed at him, I get to the point of tears almost every night. This is my precious son. This is a $35K baby. This little one was the ONLY surviving embryo from our last IVF cycle, This little man has made my heart swell like it never has before. He didn't ask me to be born. He just is.

Yes. He snuffles for the breast (hence 'wombat'), he yells in his sleep (every night), he rarely cries and when he does a deep switch gets turned on in my soul. I cannot bear the sound of him in distress, -even for a minute.
I love watching Brett's amazing tenderness and protectiveness towards his son. I kid you not when I say that he does EVERYTHING! I just adore that Brett has endless patience and love for his baby boy. At least once a day he spouts forth with "I love my son!". No particular impetus, just emotion that bubbles up and spills over!
Like every new parent, we've had our 'issues'.  I have had to come to terms with the fact that I can't produce enough breast milk to satisfy him. Our baby is on a "mixed feed" deal. he always has the breast first, but then a bottle of lactose-free formula. This killed me for weeks. I cried and cried at my inability to feed him.
His little tongue-tie didn't help in those first few weeks. He couldn't latch well and I ended up with seeping blood-blisters on my nipples. This (and the fact that my breasts just didn't develop enough lactation tissue) made recovering from a horrible birth doubly difficult.
I "failed" as a woman (to give birth naturally) and then I "failed" to feed my son. Add that to sleep-deprivation and body-image issues and you get the general idea.
I still hate the 'pouch' of fat and skin on my tummy. I was happy to be "abdominally abundant" when he was in there, -now it's just revolting. However, I'm all set to exercise it away once I get the 6 week doctor's clearance!

I have a renewed and healthy respect for all mothers. I still feel that I'm the worst one in the world. I cannot get over my son's beauty and gorgeous nature. I only hope that someday soon things will "balance out" and I'll be able to enjoy being a mum more. Don't get me wrong, -I adore him every second I'm awake and asleep, but I have no idea who "Cath" is or when (and if!) she'll ever return.