Saturday, August 30, 2014
Peter at Home
This is a particularly happy moment for me. It's not that I don't like the hospital-- in fact, I do-- people at my beck and call, bringing me food and drink and constantly asking if they can get me anything. I like that part, but leaving the hospital with a healthy baby is not something I take for granted.
That being said, I knew full well what awaited me at home and what those first couple of weeks would be like. The heavenly feeling of holding a newborn babe for hours on end. The hormonal roller coaster and aching body of recovery. Changing tiny baby diapers and staring into their perfect faces. The sleepless nights and messy house. The best of times, the worst of times. I think there is far more good than bad about those first few weeks and they are so worth it, but it is challenging nonetheless.
Shortly after Peter came home, George said to me, "I don't want you to call me a baby anymore. You can call me Big Boy George."
Oh, good. That whole two-baby-thing could have gotten ugly. George is Peter's biggest fan.