CHILD'S PLAYNo midwife can fully prepare you for your baby's homecoming. Susan Hayden puts her new-found mothering skills to work
After Tim was born I spent four nights in hospital. The time passed very quickly - firstly, because I was fed six times a day (almost as often as Tim!), and secondly because there are a number of "skills" to be acquired during your stay - including nappy-changing, bathing and feeding (particularly if you decide to breastfeed, as I did).
Visitors, while usually welcome, can be quite a distraction with so much already packed into the day. During our stay, Tim also saw the paediatrician and had his BCG (anti-TB) injection, and I attended a physiotherapy class designed to emotionally blackmail new (and un-athletic) mothers into performing an array of exercises to get back into shape.
I was more interested in the fact that of the seven of us in the class, only one had had a normal delivery, the other births having been assisted (Caesarean, ventouse or forceps).
The past fortnight has been a steep learning curve for all of us. Sleep deprivation has been THE over-riding part of it. No matter how much I was warned in advance, nothing prepared me for it, and despite being told by all and sundry that I should sleep while the baby sleeps, this is easier said than done. Firstly, the baby has to go to sleep! Moreover, it is much easier to nod off when you are supposed to stay awake than to nod off when it's allowed.
I am only beginning to understand some of the noises Tim makes. There are a few rules of thumb. If he cries it is for one of a few main reasons - he needs his nappy changed, he's hungry, he's too warm or too cold, or he's colicky. My difficulty has been working out which is which.
Colic is the one I find hardest to deal with. It changes my angelic baby into a roaring demon. His tiny body is racked with pain and nothing can calm him. After about two hours it passes - it is the worst two hours of my life every day, and usually happens late in the evening when we are already tired.
A public health nurse came to give him his heel prick test (tests for lactose and other allergies) shortly after we got home. This is a pretty traumatic test for baby and mother and I am embarrassed to say that I cried more than Tim during it.
We asked the nurse about his colic, we then asked another nurse at the baby clinic and to top it all off for parental paranoia we took him to the doctor last week. They all said the same thing - he is thriving, it's normal - but it is impossible to accept when you see him like this.
My husband, Michael, picked up a colic drop for him that Tim wouldn't touch, but we have now found a new one which is more palatable and which will hopefully have an effect. Another trick that has helped us to settle him is to warm his bed with a hot bottle before we put him into it.
Naturally enough, we have had a few minor incidents since Tim and I came home. Thanks to the phenomenal help of the midwives in Holles Street, by the time I left hospital I was feeling relatively positive about my ability to look after Tim properly - no baby blues for me!
I must also have been lulled into a false sense of security after our peaceful drive home because I soon went to lie down, leaving Tim in his father's care for the first time. Ten minutes into bed and screams resonated through the house. I fell out of bed, threw on my jeans, backwards as it later transpired, and ran down the stairs to find Tim naked and screaming his lungs out on the changing station. His father, while attempting his first nappy change, was in the process of filling a bowl with water, the mess spoke for itself - three discarded nappies and pee everywhere. In spite of this, we're not doing too badly. Onwards and upwards, although hopefully not as steep as the last two weeks.
Susan Hayden is an Irish Times staff member - her column appears fortnightly.