One Month In

Dorothy - You may never wear heels again.

Or, at the moment, it feels that way. I didn't wear heels much before either, and I'm certainly not wearing them now, because if I wear shoes at all, it's one pair of slip ons, with the one pair of leggings that fit and a rotating collection of my husband's t-shirts, rotated semi-promptly after they are filled with breastmilk (leaked) or breastmilk (regurgitated upon).

This is the dark secret of pregnancy - after the baby arrives, the world shrinks more. You thought the world was getting smaller while you were pregnant (goodbye drinks with friends, goodbye ability to stay up past 9, goodbye clothes, goodbye cynical sense of humor about emotionally exploitative media). And yet, there is a world awaiting you that is smaller still.

It is the size of your house and it is filled with a baby that, in turns, seems alternately huge when up close and in your arms, and very tiny, precarious and squidgy when you hand them to someone else. Their needs are immediate. Yours are secondary, and in order for you both to survive, the world must shrink.

Today we took the lovely baby in for her one month checkup, and as we drove to the doctor I realized it that although according to the calendar, it was a month it could have been a thousand years. Time changes in the immediacy of the house.

There's much much more to say about the month that just passed by, but I'd like to leave this entry with a little intro overall - we are three friends from college who met in our improv troupe, and now, suddenly, 13 years later, we are mothers.

This blog is a reflection on that transition and meant to entertain you and us while we undergo it. Fun!