First things first, we are flipping January the bird and telling it to go on and get on. It was blah. Not like life and death or anything, but three food poisonings (or viruses or whatever), the flu and bronchitis was more than we bargained for. We are excited to meet February 2011.
Second. Aren't new moms cute? I mean cute like baby bunnies and plentiful here lately. They have no idea what is in store for them. Please don't take this the wrong way. The Cuddler was cute like this too.
When the Cuddler and I came home from the hospital, she was all kind of cute until she was crazy. Not like she was singing spirituals and planning to dismember me or anything. Although her doctor did keep giving Morning Guy pamphlets on postpartum depression. If the Cuddler doesn't get eight solid hours of sleep, she is less than reasonable and no one told her how exhausted I was going to make her.
Not that it would matter if anyone had told her. If they did, it would be like when women share their excruciating birth stories with pregnant people. I mean what is the point of that? Once you are knocked up, the deed is done and that baby has to come out. If you are trying to deter birth, which is the only reason you would share those stories, it should be with the non-pregnant in the name of population control.
The Cuddler followed the cute new mother road map:
1. Get pregnant
2. Gestate baby
3. Have baby
4. Take baby home
It is at this point that things got iffy for us. See, before there was a fleet of nurses at our disposal. But once we got home it was just me, the Cuddler and Morning Guy. For a few days we had help from my Non, but then my Uncle Chris cut his fingers off with a saw and cut in on our help. (Don't worry, they were all reattached.) During this time, I was starving despite the Cuddler's best lactating effort, I cried constantly, the Cuddler cried about our nursing fail, I started formula, I projectile vomited at every feeding, the Cuddler got Epstein-Barr virus, and we all just barely survived my new born baby stage with our sanity.
Good times. She read a dozen books on newborns. Wasn't she cute?
Hug a new mom today and tell her the view is very different in a year.
Love, the Plum