Almost daily I am shocked by the fact that I have a child. I catch myself looking at Reuben and wondering why he is still there, or realizing that he is still there and that he is mine. It's weird and wonderful. I am still not used to it but I could never dream of life without him.
It's also funny how many odd expectations I had about motherhood that turned out to be totally wrong. It's like I don't know myself, and on a daily basis I have to reevaluate who I am.
Bed sharing, for example. I waxed eloquent on how I couldn't wait to bed share. I googled safe bed sharing and talked to my husband about it and honestly eagerly awaited the moment I could sleep all night with my son tucked safely beside me. I laughed in people's faces when they told me my little one would die if I bed shared, and I rolled my eyes at the hospital pediatrician who said it was unsafe (my pediatrician is perfectly fine with it, not that her opinion on how I sleep with my son matters). I talked to friends who share their beds with their newborns and they told me about all the wonderful night breast feeding where their little one suckled and they got to sleep peacefully though the night.
I hate bed sharing. And not because it's scary. I mean, the first few times it was a little scary, but I'd done enough research to know how to do it safely and I was not concerned about that factor. I hate it because by the end of the day I am so worn out of having my baby touching me. I just want to sleep by myself with nothing touching me or wanting to nurse. Co-sleeping, on the other hand is so wonderful I could write eons and eons about it. The baby is next to me but in his own bassinet, close enough that he can smell me and I can hear when he cries but far enough away that I can get my own personal space bubble all nice and empty of everything but myself and my blanket. It's bliss.
Can we also talk about my taste buds? They have seriously changed. And it's weird. It's like I'm discovering food I've eaten my whole life for the first time. For one, I've hated popcorn my entire life. Entire. Life. Suddenly during pregnancy I craved popcorn with the undying love of a teenager. It's bad. I still, even 3 months postpartum, can't get enough of the stuff. I ask my husband to pop me a bag almost every night. Last night he said we were out and I almost cried. It was that bad.
I also like coffee. Let me repeat that. I like coffee. What is wrong with me? Who am I anymore? I have never ever ever liked coffee. But it tastes AMAZING. Please help. I remember how it used to taste, like bitter hot stuff. But now it tastes like the nectar of the gods and I even dream about drinking it. It started when a Muse (local coffee shop) employee gave me a coffee for free when I was out with two friends. I tried it and it was so good. I thought it was just that particular kind or something (it was an organic columbian dark roast) but then yesterday I tried Chick-fil-a coffee and it also tasted like the nectar of the gods. I felt like I was in the twilight zone.
Some things that I used to like I don't anymore. Like raisins. I just put raisins in my oatmeal and now I am wondering why on earth I would ever do that. It seriously is like I regenerated and have to figure out what in the world my new taste buds like. I know how the Doctor feels now every time he regenerates. Raisins are disgusting.
I hope this does not happen every time I procreate, or it's going to get old fast.