Zombie Tits: As Told By SymptomUnknown

Zombies are real. I’m living proof of that statement. No, I’m not walking around gray-faced, violently hissing at people, attempting to indulge into the flesh of my fellow man with an urgency I am incapable of controlling. I am a zombie due to the fact I am in the process of raising a 1 month old.

From the first night the nurses brought him into my room to feed, up until now; with the exception of 2 nights, I have not slept for more than 3 hours straight without interruption. For whatever reason, people hype up parental responsibility as if it is the most spectacular event in life. Don’t get me wrong, I know it is a blessing to have a child, but realistically it is exhausting to say the least. Why is it; for the most part, that we only see babies as joyous bundles of toothless smiles, happily cooing every minute of every day? Yes, my child smiles his best gummy grin, yes he coos, and yes he can even be a bundle of joy. However, this is not the case every waking moment of every day!

Majority of the time he’s grinning at things I can’t see, instead of the countless silly faces I make at him, when he coos, its mainly due to the fact he’s being nursed, or wants to nurse, and a bundle of joy is a poopy diaper after he’s stained himself to exhaustion, and can finally relax. Some may take pleasure in all of these things, and may even be able to overlook their own exhaustion, but I can only see raising a child for what it truly is, whether those moments are heavenly or moments from hell.

All I’m saying is, don’t get caught up on those commercial babies, or the million dollar model smiles we so often are exposed to on social media. If you want a child, prepare to be unprepared because truthfully, there isn’t a “How to Guide”. There isn’t one method that gets the job done

better compared to some other method. Having a child is nothing more than responsibility on top of more responsibility, patience, love, and a overwhelming desire to give those things indefinitely.

With this being my second child, I see now that I took those things for granted with my first. Being 16, I wasn’t nearly as concerned, nor did I put enough effort into raising my first born. I see now that I allowed my mother to take on most of the load, out of fear and laziness.

Being a mother was awkward, and I figured I had time to grow out of it and be the mom I imagined myself as being. But my first born died only having lived 4 months. Looking back, I wish I would have given him those extra kisses. I wish I would have cherished those gummy grins and found comfort in comforting him at his moments of distress. I wish I hadn’t felt silly saying, “I love you”. I wish I would have realized that the only time we have is time spent, and that there isn’t a guarantee to “grow out of” awkward stages.

There’s nothing like the present, and even though my second baby boy takes a lot of my energy and I often feel I’m an extra from The Walking Dead, I make sure to make the most of our time together, even if his only interest is which boob has the most milk in it. He doesn’t realize its 3 AM and I only just went to sleep 30 minutes ago, nor does he understand that waking up just as I’m about to eat, shower, pee, or pump is unbelievably inconvenient. But the one thing I do hope he realizes and more importantly understands, is that I do what I have to do because I love him.

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SymptomUnknown My point of view on life's ups and downs.

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