Time in a Bottle

It’s happened, and happening . . . those changes I was talking about.

It’s wonderful. I’m learning about this new child who is unassuming and quiet. Even her most plaintiff cries are subdued, almost apologetic. Often a gentle shush in her ear will quiet her back to a slumber.

She positively swims in her newborn attire. Neither of my other two children were ever this small on this side of the womb. Having lost some of her birth weight, as babies do, she is below 7 pounds and, at times, her tiny body overwhelms me. She’s not as tiny as some babies, but to me, who last birthed a baby who was more than 8 pounds, she is delicate and dainty.

My first-born daughter is basking in her new role as big sister to a sister. She’s requested photos of her sister so that she can brag to her friends at school. I envision her as one of those new moms with a string of billfold photos that streams for 3 feet from her purse whenever anyone politely inquires as to the health of her baby.

My son has repeated over and over that he is a big brother now. The rare times that D cries, K is there singing to her, talking to her, holding her hand.

Her siblings often soothe D already.

My recovery is going well. D is nursing well and sleeping well which means that I am sleeping well. I am gaining more strength back in my abdominal muscles and can walk less and less hunched over.

Craig is doing everything for me so that I can recover. The laundry is being done, the kids are taken care of, my medication is delivered to my chair. My back is washed, my legs are dried, my pants’ legs held so that I can step into them.

I am enjoying my new role, still in its infancy. I am a mom to three and a wife to a wonderful man.

If I could save time in a bottle, these are some of the days that I would save.