A couple of words for you to understand my day

what should have been joy filled, lots of fun, catching up with friends, showing of my one-month-old-today child was instead peppered by the following:
– aching joints
– migraine
– boobs that feel like someone has put them in a vice and is turning the wing-nutty thing – or whatever the tightening device is called
– a back that feels like someone has hit me with a 2-be-4 (I have no idea if that is the right way to right that and I know every chippie out there is laughing at me, but indulge ok…) hurt
– Jasper feeding every two hours – for over 20 minutes on each breast
– it was, like, THIRTY degrees
– bursting into tears on a friend of ours who is also a midwife
– standing in a pretty pink five year old’s bedroom with said friend feeling my breasts. No, not like that.
– sitting in the lounge room, with a house full of people, of which I knew approximately 5, with a bag of peas on one breast and an ice-pack on the other.
– crying when saying good bye to everyone, because even though I felt like absolute utter CRAP, it really was a glorious, wondrous, fabulous day of friends, great food, wine and laughter.

And now, as I sit here and type, there are two snaplock bags of peas on each breast and dear God nothing has ever bought such sweet sweet relief. If I wasn’t feeling quite so off the planet due to lack of sleep and raging mastitis, I would engage in a discourse as to why ice is so good in moments of distress and pain, but I’m to over it.

Tomorrow, or maybe in a bazillion days when I feel a little more normal I’ll post piccies of my first Thanksgiving feast with a great bunch of friends.