I had a hair appointment yesterday. My wife stayed home with the baby so I could go and get an awesome new look and feel like a new me. It was supposed to be fun, relaxing, a happy escape for a couple of hours. But I was struck with separation anxiety about halfway through the dye job.
I haven’t been very successful at pumping lately. The only way to get more than a few drops (literally) is to pump first thing in the morning WHILE she nurses on the other side. I can usually get enough that way for a snack sized bottle that will hold her over. She’s used to nursing on demand every 2 hours or so throughout the day, so when I’m gone for more than 2 hours I at least want to have a snack sized bottle for her. But I didn’t get a chance to pump. I nursed her to sleep for her morning nap and then I left.
About an hour and a half into my appointment my stylist had only just finished putting foils in my hair. I have a lot of hair. And then 3.5 hours into my appointment, when I was getting a blow dry, she decided the colour hadn’t come out quite right and we had to use more toner. So back to the sink we went. And I hadn’t even gotten my cut yet. I was sitting in the chair fidgeting like crazy, looking at my phone every minute, wondering if my wife would even bother telling me if the baby NEEDED me and I needed to cut it short and come home. I would have run out of that place with foils in my hair if I’d gotten a message saying she was hungry.
But luckily, she wasn’t. She ate a yummy lunch of steamed carrots and zucchini and leftover ham, and she washed it down with some water out of her sippy cup. She went to the mall and my wife bought her some new summer outfits. When I finally got home (5 hours later…) she was passed out on my wife’s chest on the couch.
I didn’t need to worry. But I spent my time out of the house with elevated blood pressure, stress sweats, and an inability to stop worrying that my baby was starving without being able to breastfeed for 5 hours.
I think I’ll get better at being away from her as she starts to wean, and I know she really is getting the majority of her nutrition from food, and satisfies her thirst with efficient water drinking. It’s just a terrible feeling (and a recurring nightmare of mine) that she is hungry for milk and can’t access it for some reason. Mama bear instincts, or separation anxiety?
Anyway, here are some pics of the hair colour that caused all this emotion. When I got home we cuddled and played outside in the yard and it was magical.