I wrote this with one hand

So, I’ve been a mom for seven weeks now, and am doing a great job, as evidenced by the fact that Ruby is not addicted to drugs, hasn’t joined a cult and isn’t sneaking sips of David’s bourbon while we aren’t looking. Despite these obvious signs of success, however, parenting is hard. Really hard. And we’re just now starting to recover from the shock of it.

The first week home from the hospital was maybe the worst week of my life. I feel bad saying that, but there you have it. I would just stare wordlessly at David and wonder why we ruined our carefree life and easy relationship. Was this a mistake? This is possibly the most frightening thought, as you are stuck with the baby forever, regardless of your conclusion. We spent most of the first month of Ruby’s life weakly trying to convince each other that having a baby had been a good idea, and that things would get better.

And then, things actually did start to get better. Eating and sleeping patterns began to emerge, and lo, we could take a sleeping baby grocery shopping instead of a starving, hysterical one. Breastfeeding went from excruciating to manageable, and Ruby, god bless her, started sleeping for 6 hour stretches at night.

With Ruby happily snoring on my shoulder, I’m optimistic about this whole endeavor. The arrival of spring feels symbolic–winter and all the dark feelings that went with it are ending, and we’re finally ready to celebrate our new life.

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