We are home. I am exhausted and sad. No, not post partum depression. Just sad.
I am tired from being up all night with little man. He cluster feeds from 1 a.m. until 5 a.m. As in, he eats thirty of every sixty minutes, not the pattern we hoped for.
I'm sore all over, maybe fighting an illness, maybe threatening mastitis, maybe just sore.
I'm limited in what I can do, so still no major lifting, no cleaning, no picking up the floor, no driving.
It's a silly thing, but this is the only pregnancy that I came home in maternity clothes. That isn't helping my mood.
I had a couple people call me super Mom yesterday, but I feel a long ways from that. I'm more like half-power Mom.
This little guy has thrown some serious stress at us this week, so I probably need to process that.
But first, I need to sleep. Because every time we wake up, I smile at the little man next to me, so thankful he got here safe and sound, so thankful for our little blessing.