(I wrote this on Sunday. Then didn't finish it. Then Monday happened. And now it's Monday night and I'm finishing it. Yay, me!)
This is made possible because, as you can possible tell from the above picture, I am not at home. Not that you know what my home looks like. But, I can assure you my house does not have a stone fireplace nor wood on the ceiling. No, right now I am sitting in the family room at my parents' house, while Little N snoozes soundly on the couch, my husband watches USA play Ghana, and Cubbie sleeps soundly in bed. I'm surrounded by floor to ceiling windows that give me a view of the back deck and back yard, four acres of grass and thick trees, and if I were to walk to the dining room, similar floor to ceiling windows would reveal eleven more acres of field and forest.
It's safe to say my parents live in the country.
And, on quiet afternoons like this, I wonder why, perhaps, I do not. Someday.
Anyway. All that to say, I'm in a very peaceful place with endless childcare, which allows for a nice blog post. I need to take advantage of it while I can, yes?
So. Bringing home baby. I've told my birth story, so here is what occurred after that.
The day after Naomi was born, I woke up early in our hospital room and jumped in the shower. It felt sooooo good to be clean. I peeked into the hallway and shuffled down the hall to the nursery, where I could hear our little lady howling at the top of her lungs, as she typically does when she is undressed against her will. I do not blame her. I ran into my doctor and told him I was feeling okay! and May we please go home? He said to hang tight and after a few surgeries and deliveries he made it back to our room, pushed on my stomach, wrote me a prescription for Percocet (cramps, you see), and cleared us for eviction. We packed up and I had to sign some papers saying I knew how to care for a newborn and promising I wouldn't lay her on her stomach ever. (I kind of lied, DON'T TELL.)
Then we packed up and headed home.
Now. Let me back up a little here and explain something. I've mentioned before my postpartum anxiety with Cub. Going home was nerve-wracking with him, to say the least. I remember standing in the hospital nursery, shaking, wondering who in their right mind thought I was fit enough to bring home a newborn. I was extremely sore and tired. I've always been jealous of my friends who have warm fuzzy weepy hormones after their babies are born, rather than the shaky terrified hormones like I did. Well, this time, I couldn't wait to get home. I was soaring.
We walked in the front door and it was as though the heavens opened up and poured down all of the wonderful goodness of beauty and loveliness it could muster. I swooped through the front door, greeted my handsome little Cub, and carried Naomi into her room for the first time. "This is YOUR room!!" I declared happily, showing her the owls on her crib sheets and her silver shoes hanging on the wall. The sun shone through her windows and at that moment, her bright little room was the most beautiful place on earth. I couldn't wait for her to wake up, even if it was several times a night, because Oh my goodness, she's HERE! I had enough energy to power a small village. I was thrilled with every coo, every fuss, every diaper change. My heart was soaring and I may have broken into song a few times.
Forget warm fuzzy weepy hormones. These hormones were like an LSD trip.
And I couldn't have asked for anything better.
Of course, as the days went by, the high wore off, but not in a bad way. I started to feel tired at night, like a normal person, and my happiness reached a satisfied level of good. I felt more like myself, which was nice. I was amazed at how quickly I was able to jump back into the life of caring for a newborn, with seemingly endless feedings and crying that I don't always understand. Right now, Little N eats about every 2-2 1/2 hours, and I'm very much looking forward to when we can stretch that out to 3. :) Her cry is shrill enough to shatter glass (and brain cells) but, oddly enough, it doesn't make me nervous or anxious. Stressed at times, yes, but nothing I can't manage. This time around, I find that I am taking everything in more deeply than I did when Cub was born. Obviously, this has nothing to do with the babies and everything to do with me--now that I know how quickly the stages pass, I'm doing my best to cherish every moment, with both kids. I can't believe Little N is already two weeks old.
And a little cry just came over the monitor--time to run. Sorry to end this post like that, but I have a feeling that will happen a lot for a little while!
Have a lovely day!