I did the school run. I know, right?
Two weeks ago I was having my third glorious hypnobirth and this week I’m back at work and taking on the school run (the latter being far more “Wow, you’re not are you? So soon?” than the former in my mind.
So on this dreaded school run I was stopped not once, but three times and simply asked “Is your baby good?” But what is a good baby? A baby that sleeps I presume? Even as a cool, calm, hypnobaby who sleeps well, my baby’s still a baby. A good baby.
My good baby sleeps. My good baby sleeps as well as he should. Sometimes less, sometimes more. Hormone levels are highest at night. He knows feeding at night is important. Whatever he sleeps I am always tired, slightly detached from reality and liable to nod off if I stay still for more than a minute or two.
My good baby cries. He cries when he’s hungry. His tummy is tiny (currently about the size of an apricot) so he’s often hungry and his milk digests easily. But my baby has a cold. He barely fed for 2 days. My good baby is now playing catch up. So I am not sleeping and neither is he. My baby is drinking so much I feel like a raisin. By feeding regularly my baby gets cuddled regularly, he interacts regularly and his brain develops.
My good baby nurses. He nurses when he’s hungry. He nurses when he not. He nurses when he’s thirsty. He nurses when he’s bored. He nurses for comfort. He nurses because he wants a cuddle, reassurance or just to be close.
My good baby grumbles. He grumbles when he’s not feeling well. He grumbles with his snotty, sniffly nose. He snores, he snuffles, he snorts, he grunts. He grumbles because he’s frustrated, he’s tired or perhaps he’s noticed he sounds like a piglet?
My good baby screams. He screams and screams and screams because he’s got wind. He wriggles, he squirms, he kicks, he fusses, he claws out – at me. He just screams because he’s got wind. He screams mainly at night. Or perhaps I notice it more at night? Wind up or down, he screams until the wind comes out.
My good baby wants his mummy. He wants his mummy more than anyone. He likes being cuddled by his daddy, his brother, his sister, his grandparents, but eventually he wants his mummy. He’s happy when he’s with his mummy. He’s happy when he knows his mummy is near. He’s happy when he doesn’t have to wait for mummy. He’s happy when mummy responds to him quickly. He’s happy when his mummy cuddles him.
My good baby knows what he wants. He ensures his needs are met. He knows what he needs, physically and emotionally. He knows how to tell his mummy. He follows his survival instincts. He takes exactly what he needs.
My good baby can tell his mummy. He can tell his mummy by touch. He can tell his mummy by scent. He can tell his mummy by sound. He’s was fine tuning his skills before he was born, whilst he was born and he continues now that he’s been born.
My good baby looks after his mummy. He makes his mummy slow down. He makes his mummy sit still. He makes his mummy relax and rest and eat and sleep.
So this is my good baby
He sleeps. For him that means sleep, more sleep, wake, feed, repeat. Does he sleep through the night? No! Because that doesn’t suit his needs right now. Not yet. And I don’t mind. I love everything he does and he does everything a good baby should.
