Day 11

I am sitting on our couch, the couch I always write my posts from, and feeling like I am a very different person compared to the last time I sat and wrote. I have my daughter passed out on my chest, a milky breath pants from her bowed lips. She has a full head of hair that seems permanently oiled due to the irresistible urge we all have had to kiss her when she snuggles into the space between my collar bone and my chin. I love her so completely.

Today is a big day for me here. My parents, who have been here since I came home from the hospital, left today. My husband left a few days ago and so now I am alone. A dear friend of mine gave me a word of warning not to be a martyr about my situation (as my family history would lead me to be) but in all truth, I have been terrified of this moment since she was born. It is fucking scary to be a parent, let alone a new parent left alone during the second week of your child’s life. I am starting to get into the swing of things. I have left the house for short sling wrapped walks around the farm. I am able to change a diaper in the middle of the night without turning on the light. I have even managed to breastfeed laying down. The last one may not seem like a big deal to some women, but my breasts are now a bulging “L” cup and I feel like the baby is on the other side of the room when I feed her this way. It has taken some pretty awesome nipple maneuvering skills, let me tell you.

So yes, my stitches are healing up and I am bleeding less. I am anemic, which doesn’t surprise me due to my blood loss at the delivery, but I don’t feel too bad. I have had so much support from D and my folks that I feel well loved, and in the end, that is how I fill my cup. All the sleep in the world won’t give me half the peace that a good hug and a warm smile will. On that note, however, I am going to bed.