I had a terrible night leading up to day three in the hospital. Daisy refused to feed even though she was clearly hungry, I struggled with her for hours in the night without success. There was some drama happening in the maternity ward and the midwives didn't have time to help us. When I did manage to catch some sleep, I had terrible nightmares.
The morning of the third day started with general weepiness, crying because my husband is so great or because my daughter is so cute. But then the pediatrician entered the scene...
I don't like doctors. Even the nice ones have a scary clinical way about them. They possess none of the coziness the midwives all have. This one was two apples high and had an annoying chirpiness about her. I'm sure she was nice enough, but she came to tell me my baby had lost 1% too much weight (yes, one percent) and I was not going to be allowed to leave the hospital and to top things off I would have to feed the baby formula.
Through my veil of hormonal tears what I heard was: "You can't feed your own baby who is now dangerously dehydrated, so we're going to hold you hostage and force feed your baby artificial crap."
Need I say I got slightly hystercal after that? Dwayne, having barely ever seen me cry and certainly never seen me fail and despair, got angry and went and spoke to the midwives. They took him seriously and started paying me a lot more attention, but unfortunately none of the girls that I already knew were on duty. I saw different people every feed, had to explain the situation over and over again, and the worst bit - each midwife had a completely different opinion and approach. So I cried and cried and Daisy refused to eat and all was miserable.
But then, as the night shift started, my saving angel Belinda came on! She is a down to earth, no nonsense, comforting person. She actually pulled out a chair and sat with me and listened and let me cry. She reassured me and explained the situation to me and made everything seem so much less like the end of the world. Then she helped me feed Daisy Piglet through the night, first breast and then a top-up of formula. She made sure I slept and she came in to wake me up for feeding time and didn't leave the room until things were working. By this morning Daisy was eating perfectly well and we haven't had to give her any more formula since.
Even the small chirpy pediatrician was happy to discharge us, so this very moment Daisy and I are snuggled up on the sofa watching telly whilst Dwayne waits on us. Bliss!
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