Great Expectations

Supermodels seemingly have it all. Post-partum figures that money can't buy, yummy over-achieving hubbies, and beautiful children whom they breastfeed effortlessly. See Exhibit A:


Exhibit A - VS angel Miranda Kerr feeding her son before strutting her shit on the catwalk in lingerie.

WTF.

Having never had a baby before Olive, I had no idea that photos like the one above, and blogs like this one, do not depict the norm. Glossy, doctored images of highly-disciplined freaks of nature in perfectly-staged settings paired with edited blog entries about their fancy at-home, glitch-free, successful natural births to chill babies are bound to make any "real" mom feel like a failure - myself included. Olive was a challenge from day one, and it's important to note that ours was not a relationship based on love-at-first-sight. See Exhibit B:


Exhibit B - Me and Olive hanging out at the hospital when she was first born. Feelings were mutual. She was pissed at me for starving her (my milk supply hadn't let down yet), and I was frustrated with her for chewing up my nipples (seriously, ow-wee).

Fast forward to today. My weight is at an all-time high, my home is a war-zone, and I continue to struggle with breastfeeding my colicky baby. Unlike Miranda Kerr, I am not strutting around in diamond-covered pasties and a thong. I am a fat ass, running on empty - sleeping any moment I can, anywhere I can. See Exhibit C:


Exhibit C - Reality bites.

Though Olive and I didn't hit it off from the get-go (our relationship problems stemmed from the difficulties I encountered when breastfeeding), our mother-daughter relationship has developed into something pretty darn sweet over the course of a month. (Olive turns 1 month old tomorrow!) My insides melt like butter when the little one stares at me; I swear, there's nothing I wouldn't do for my bossy munchkin... Exhibit D:


Exhibit D - Who ya' callin' bossy?