Happy

I spent the three days after The Boy's birth in hospital, using morphine as a means to get through each day. The rest of the week I spent in bed. I remember hobbling out to the midwife's a week later, tottering slowly and agonizingly, on a strict regimen of OTC painkillers.

This time I'm still on painkillers, but I forget to take them for hours. I get up to tidy the house and remember the midwife told me to stay put for a week, and it's only been four days since she arrived. My belly is disappearing fast -- I only look a few months pregnant, not six.

I spent yesterday weeping but am calm and happy this morning, and shared some nice moments with my son, who is adapting as well as any four year old can to such a huge change in his life and routine.

I'm tired, but got some good sleep last night for the first time since the birth, and while I know tonight might be hard too, it was so great to have one good night.

In short, it's going amazingly well. And instead of sitting here waiting for the other shoe to drop as I often do, I am choosing instead to just enjoy it and be happy about it.

Who wouldn't be happy with the sun shining, the birds chirping, and a blessing of family?