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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.