The Calm Before the Storm

Little Debbie is now 17 hours old. It's the calm before the storm. We're recovering nicely from her delivery. I'm up, mobile, sleep-deprived, but feeling OK. She's a strong eater, and a strong crier. And a strong spitter with a belly full of vigorous feeding sessions and birth gunk. She's in the nursery. Where someone else is cleaning her spit. And changing her spitty clothes. And doing her spitty laundry. 

I'm in my hospital room. Eating food someone else is cooking. Soiling laundry someone else is washing. Watching cable that we don't have at home. Catching naps between feeding myself and Little Debbie, visits from nurses, and visits from family. 

This is not real life. This is the calm before the storm. I think this might be the daily life of the rich and famous, a life with a personal chef and paid staff. This is not my life. 

My life now has 3 children in it. Holy cow, I'm a mother of 3. The reality will sink in on Friday, when Little Debbie and I join the rest of our family at home. Until then, I plan to live it up. I will eat carrot cake made by someone else. I will drink milkshakes made by someone else. I will catch catnaps whenever I can. I will enjoy the calm before the storm. 

*Little Debbie gets this nickname from the pregnancy cravings she caused. Oh, Swiss Cake rolls, how I do love thee...