on recovery.

It's write-without-looking time! Here goes...

I had some very tasty chocolate cake for dessert tonight. A very kind friend brought it over with dinner yesterday. I am so thankful for help with food right now. I am also thankful for sweets. Especially chocolate. I had a mild aversion to sweets and chocolate on and off throughout my pregnancy, so being able to enjoy them again is great. Or... maybe it's not so great... the cake was great.

I can't find the one small pack of nursing pads that I have.

Speaking of nursing, I feel like I am learning everything all over again. Not just with nursing. With everything. This is my fourth child, but my third child is four years old. This all seems so new. And a tad unfamiliar. Again. Despite my experience with three other babies over the last fifteen years.

Chocolate helps me feel good. I need to feel good, since the baby blues are very real. They have nothing to do with my baby girl. I absolutely adore her and am completely over the moon about her. But dang these hormonal mood swings. I know it's perfectly normal, but thank God I've got some chocolate.

Still haven't dealt completely with the grief. The baby blues don't help. The brief episodes of depression during nursing don't help. Mother's Day coming up most definitely does not help. Darn Hallmark holiday.

It's still absolutely terrifying to have to go to the bathroom.

And yes, I am inclined to agree that the postpartum cramping gets progressively worse with each child. Motrin and even Percoset seemed to only work at their convenience. Not good.

But there is a lot of good on which to focus, like the fact that seven pounds and ten ounces feel like a watermelon-sized bowling ball in the womb, but out of the womb they are so light and feathery and freakishly fragile-feeling and delightfully squishy and soft.

That baby smell should be bottled and preserved.

As should all of that soft fuzz that covers her tiny body, and the sweet sound that her baby breath makes.

Her toes are so little.

And her eyes dance, and stare, and glisten. And she smiles. Even though it's involuntary, she still does it. Quite a bit. These are times that I never want to forget.

I'll share her birth story in the coming week, as well as start a new photo project. I finally decided what to do.