Honestly? It's hard.

Here is our little rainbow, Georgia May. Born by elective C section, 21st Otocber 2010 at 12.14pm weighing 4lb 14oz:

It goes without saying that I love her fiercely. She is precious. When I am feeling more 'with it' I will write her birth story, sadly (except the outcome) not a positive experience - I am not a big fan of C sections I have discovered.
At the minute I am lost in a exhausted haze. This is so hard, so much harder than I imagined it. I spent so long on worrying about her getting here I never really thought or planned for when she was here.
Her being so tiny and slightly premature has been a worry, but she's been a little star and was able to stay on the ward with me, rather than going to special care. I naively thought when she was here my stress and worry would dissipate, however my heightened sense of anxiety has simply transferred from bump to this little delicate person now in my care. Is she breathing? Does she sound snuffly? Has her jaundice gotten worse? Just check, is she breathing? Why is she choking? Why is she so sleepy? Does she seem jittery to you? Do you think her blood sugar is low? Is she getting enough food do you think?
At the minute I am trying to breastfeed, which I am finding hard work. I think I have said every day so far that I am going to quit. She only feeds for 5-10 minutes on one breast each feed, sometimes I am having to wake her every 3 hours because she is sleeping through feeds, other times she is waking herself every hour. I am constantly worried she isn't getting enough to thrive. I can hardly eat, I feel so anxious all the time. I feel guilty for bringing her so early, maybe we could have just pushed on for one more week? I seem to have baby blues, I cry lots. I feel overwhelmed. I feel like I can't cope, I can't handle the worry and the responsibility. I feel there is danger everywhere. Above all there is this guilt, after all I finally have what I have wanted for 3 long years and yet I'm not enjoying it, not one bit. Don't get me wrong, I look at her sleepy face and kiss her soft skin and my heart melts. I love her with every bone and sinew in my body. But this makes my anxiety uncontrollable, I worry like every other first time mother but times a thousand. I feel that I cannot rest, I have to protect her at all times. Sleep deprivation makes me irrational, but even when I have stolen a few hours I wake up just as worried. And reading this back I sound like a crazy woman! I really do! I sound ungrateful and I'm really not. I am thankful I have been blessed with her, holding her little warm body in my arms, holding her to my breast as she feeds - they are the most blessed and contented feelings I have ever experienced. But I can't help but feel sad. I look at her sometimes and she looks so much like her sister. And I can't help but wonder about what sort of mother I would have been to Lucy. Before my trust in the world was shattered, and my heart and mind embittered and exposed to the reality that bad things happen to people you love. I want to be that mother, not this crazy, fraught human being I see now in the mirror. I am sure I would have worried, but not to this extent. Now I know bad things happen and they are all I can see. My mind races with what terrible thing can happen next, to claim this fragile little creature in my arms. I am hoping that with time and confidence I will start to relax and enjoy her a little more. Until then I will just keep muddling through, trying to do my best. But it sure is hard.