Day Three: Send sleep!
Pure misery: When your husband leaves town to go to a once-in-lifetime family celebration, where there are people you love, people you will (now) probably never meet and your honourary sister is getting married.
Pure joy: When your baby tries to open his eyes and look around but can't seem to get them to focus in the same direction, at the same time. Hilarious.
Pure misery: Blood. From your breasts. On your bra.
Pure joy: When your baby is nursing and he spits the nipple out (spits it out!!), he's so full, and milk actually dripples out of the corner of his mouth. I don't think Mela ever spit the breast out, once.
Pure misery: When 45 minutes of sleep seems to feel like an unattainable goal. And you haven't had any sleep in three days. And your hormones are kicking in. And you just can't stop crying because it seems so unfair to ask you to do all this, on top of the fact that you just gave birth three days ago.
Pure joy: The feeling of your baby's hair (the softest substance known to man). And his face. And his feet. And the smell of his breath.
These are the worst of times ... they are the best of times.
Here, quickly, are some pics:
Hanging with dad:
Glendon and Nathan meet! (Glendon doesn't seem very impressed)
My two babes:
Baby's first bath!
The precious:
Pure joy: When your baby tries to open his eyes and look around but can't seem to get them to focus in the same direction, at the same time. Hilarious.
Pure misery: Blood. From your breasts. On your bra.
Pure joy: When your baby is nursing and he spits the nipple out (spits it out!!), he's so full, and milk actually dripples out of the corner of his mouth. I don't think Mela ever spit the breast out, once.
Pure misery: When 45 minutes of sleep seems to feel like an unattainable goal. And you haven't had any sleep in three days. And your hormones are kicking in. And you just can't stop crying because it seems so unfair to ask you to do all this, on top of the fact that you just gave birth three days ago.
Pure joy: The feeling of your baby's hair (the softest substance known to man). And his face. And his feet. And the smell of his breath.
These are the worst of times ... they are the best of times.
Here, quickly, are some pics:
Hanging with dad:
Glendon and Nathan meet! (Glendon doesn't seem very impressed)
My two babes:
Baby's first bath!
The precious:
Comments
I tried to call this morning after seeing your sad, sad post about sleep, but no one answered right away so I panicked that I was waking you up and hung up.
Call me this weekend so I don't disturb you or Newt at nap time.
I tried to fit some sleep in a package but it's just too darn elusive.