A Day with Brunino

    I'm no longer scared of Brunino. His cries, his squeals, his vulnerable little hands and vicious suction on my nipples -- I got it now -- I took back control and now he's only the boss 50% of the time. We've learned to compromise, and when I say compromise I mean I've regained my strength and can now function on breastfeeding every two hours if need be. And Brunino . . . he's gaining weight daily, up to about nine pounds now, and is about two feet tall . . . I'm no longer worried about him getting enough breast milk. He's a machine. He's a beast. The moment he knows I'm next to him he starts moving his lips in a kissing fashion but he's not offering any kisses like we are, he wants one thing and one thing only, my boobs. He wants to passionately drink milk and feel my nipple on his cheek, squeezed by his little hand, even up his nose, as long as it's in his way to feel and smell, then he's happy. And with his nipples nearby, my little Brunino hardly ever cries.
    In my opinion boys have always been so easy to please. It's just hard to recover from birth and adjust to the sleeping schedule and responsibility of a new mother.  It's scary in the beginning to imagine that everything that this little boy will need I will be practically 100% responsible for and therefore everything that I ever needed becomes secondary. In theory this sounds reasonable, because "he's just a baby." In practice, sleep deprived, bleeding, bed-ridden, wanting to just watch a movie and be held by my husband for my own nurturing and recovering and realizing that this now luxury might never again happen in the same way for years is shocking. There's no preparation for the reality of becoming a mother, and it all happens when you are vulnerable with hormones changing and just fucking with you.
    The difficult part is over now though and I don't even mind that my favorite daily routine of sleeping that extra half hour in bed while my husband gets up and makes the coffee for us is finito! Done! If I can get Massi to take Brunino, change him and comfort him first thing in the morning, I'll even be the one to make the coffee.  This hasn't happened to me in almost fifteen years. I'm never the one to make coffee, but it's a sacrifice for a gain.
    If Massi takes Brunino in the morning it allows me to change my clothes from being peed on during the night and to finally use the bathroom myself. Night time is a special moment for us. Bedtime typically starts around 8pm and this is my most opportune time to get about three good hours of sleep. I've given up trying to see my husband when he comes home at 10pm. Then 11pm - midnight Bruno will wake me up either by starting to make dolphin like squeals, or by looking for my nipple with his face. Did I mention that Bruno at the moment refuses to sleep in any position other than with his face in my breasts. This means that other than feeding him, I have to wake up every two to three hours anyway to make sure he is not overheating, because two big breasts full of milk can get hot skin to skin. Now that I have my energy back I've made the effort to sit up in bed and breast feed him instead of let him just latch on and off my boobs as he likes throughout the night. He was not latching properly in this method and I was practically crying with fear thinking about night time feeding. I realized that I need to help hold my breast and gently pull down his bottom chin to help him latch properly and that it took effort on my part as well, whether or not he gets pissed.
    I have to take a shower in the morning before Massi leaves for work, if I want the chance to ever take one, and then when I get out Bruno is ready to be changed and breast fed again. . . and the day goes on like this. If we try to go somewhere departure has to be timed for right after he feeds, and we bank on hoping that he'll fall asleep in the car. He will also poop and pee while he's in the car seat so we'll need to bring everything to change him. Then I'll have to feed him. He'll poop and pee, and the cycle continues. I try to slip moments of my old life somewhere in between the pooping and feeding . . . and the weird part is, it's not the same without him nearby. Even if I go into my room to take an hour break while he's sleeping, I miss him. I feel so far away from him. Even when I think about wanting to hold my husband and just lose myself in his arms, it's not the same anymore, I think of Bruno and if he needs me. It's the strangest and most life transforming event I've ever experienced and it happens like lighting.
    My left arm is almost dislodged from how I have to sleep with Bruno in my breasts. My posture is completely slumped over from breast feeding. Not to mention my neck, or that I feel like a marshmallow.  . . but the day goes by filled with moments of tender love as each breast feeding is never in vain. Bruno cherishes these feedings with unrivaled lust, pleasure, satisfaction, and tenderness. It's never just another feeding, and changing him is also an adventure to watch him watching me, to see if he's going to cry and go nuts or just sit back and stare at me with his navy blue eyes. Will he piss all over himself and his onesie before I can successfully change his diaper. It's an excitement and activity I never knew I would enjoy so much. A day with Brunino is unbridled joy layered with pockets of sleepiness, hormonal dysfunction, greater hunger than even pregnancy, and huge boobs I've never known before. I miss my husband, but we also are so fulfilled with sharing a son and discovering this whole new world together.