2 weeks in (almost)

So the kid's either got a strong sense of punctuality, or a wicked sense of humor, or (my luck) both. After waxing all eloquent about how nobody's ever born on their due date, guess who goes into labor just as January 17th is about to become January 18th? Exactly. This baby was in a big hurry to get here, which means the labor was speedy to the point of "if we hadn't called our doula would you have been born in the back of the car? Yeah, maybe." This is great in many ways -- baby girl jumped into the world like a stripper popping out of a cake. Awesome surprise. . . hard on the cake.

So, I've been on bed rest for the last 2 weeks while my junk heals and that's been something I really didn't count on. Just taking a walk around the block is apparently too much activity (yes, found out the hard way), so I do a lot of lying down and some sitting, and an epic amount of nursing and diaper changing. Space has become condensed, but so has time. I woke up (for the last time) at 6:50 this morning. Since then, I have (in non-baby news) eaten breakfast, taken a shower, taken a sitz bath (the kind of bath you sitz in), and sent 4 work emails. It is now 10:50. That is not 4 hours worth of activity.

Time gets eaten by the diapers and the breast-feeding and the "oh just kidding I acted like I was going to breast-feed, but really I need to nap for 5 minutes between each swallow, so this whole feeding will take like an hour and a half." My goals for each day are so modest: Be clean. Eat food. Keep child alive. And when my mom goes back home tomorrow and I'm in the house alone, I'm not entirely sure how I'm going to achieve them.

P.S. The only shoes I wear now are fleece-line moccasins. If I hadn't ordered them from Amazon the week before the baby was born, I think I'd still be wearing the treaded booties from the hospital.