I wrote this post on June 12th, when Malachi was 10 days old. I didn't post it at the time because I intended to write more, but now I will post it as it is, for my memory's sake.
Malachi is 10 days old today. We've been home a week. It's been a wonderful, hard week. I've never spent so much time with someone. When you are with a person pretty much 24 hours a day, staring at them from 12 inches away, its amazing how you notice the tiniest changes that no one else would be able to see.
I started on Malachi's birth story while we were still in the hospital. But I can't seem to finish it. The memories became so fuzzy right away. I've remembered things over the last few days, and friends have reminded me of other things.
I wish I could write a beautiful, eloquent post about babymooning, and how happy we are. But honestly, at the moment, I am feeling more "postpartum-y", than "babymoon-y". I'm tired of being dependent on drugs to feel good. I want to take a bath and I can't for 5 more weeks. For some reason that seems like a real hardship right now. I have the motivation to be up and about, but not the energy for it. I have concerns about Malachi's weight gain. It doesn't take much to make a new mama worry. I'm frustrated at how everyday living creates such a mess, and I'm not really in a position to clean it up right now.