It's very hard. I had forgotten how very hard it is. Before they're verbal, before they are in control of their limbs, before they can even smile, I had forgotten the emotional impact the actions (and lack thereof) these little babies make can wreak on your soul.
Especially when you're fatigued, and (naturally) motherly anxious.
Today Shulamis didn't nurse well. Not at all. Sporadic feedings, very brief, lots of her just hanging out with a blank look on her face like, "you want me to do what, exactly? What is my motivation here?"
And because they aren't verbal, aren't smiling, all you see is them not being happy to see you, to be near you. Their flailing little arms are pushing you away - clearly, they don't like you - your milk - your company - nothing.
Right now she's in her bassinet in the guest room, not quite crying but making little complainy noises. She's tired. She's post-bath, post me attempting to get her to nurse for more than four minutes (yes, I clocked it), and all her naps today have been motion-sleep; that is, when she was being held or rocked or whatever. Up until now she's been a champ about going to sleep in her beddy-bye alone... but now she's kvetching. I was just holding her, swaddled up, rocking on my feet, and she was quiet and content. I put her cheek to mine - and she cries.
And I know, I know that it doesn't mean she doesn't love me, that not nursing just means she's not hungry... I know, I know. I've done this before, right? Right?
So why does it get me every time?
I'm going back in there.