What happens after....

We got good news at the pediatrician today. Mark Oliver is weighing in at a mighty 6 pounds 9 ounces, which is one ounce more than his birth weight. It is normal for babies to lose a bit of weight in their first days and when we left the hospital last week, he was just under 6 pounds. When you are breastfeeding, you don't really know how much milk a baby is drinking, so one of the ways to make sure they are getting enough is to weigh them frequently. It was especially reassuring because this is one chill baby. He sleeps about 20 hours a day and I often have to wake him up to feed him. And he is so tiny! My friend Sarah dropped off a couple of premie sized sleepers because he was swimming in the newborn stuff.

I am so grateful to be having an easy time with breastfeeding. Because my butt really hurts. I don't want to get too graphic here, but basically Mark O was pulled out with the medical equivalent of a pair of salad tongs. And then I got a million stitches. And the labor bruised my tailbone. I didn't quite realize how serious they were about 2 weeks of bedrest until I went to the doctor today and they offered a refill of Percocet. Yes, please.

Basically it hurts to sit, walk, laugh, or cough. I'm supposed to stay in bed, lying down. That's pretty easy when you have a really chill newborn who is a champion at breastfeeding and sleeping. It's pretty challenging when you also have a three year old who was well prepared for the addition of a new family member, but was not expecting her mommy to be unable to get her a snack or give her a bath. This means that M is responsible for keeping us all fed, hydrated, and in clean clothes. And entertained. Don't forget entertained. Thank goodness for Netflix and the 8,000 episodes of Diego you can watch on demand. We are blessed to have family and friends who show up with food and to play with Laurel and remind us that there is a world outside of Eat Sleep Pee Poo.

Alas, a virus has struck poor M, Laurel's first round of antibiotics did not rid her of strep throat, and I'm generally useless at everything other than nursing Mark O. Laundry periodically piles up. We run out of diaper wipes. We forget to feed Rosie the Cat and she gets mad that she has to leave her basement lair to remind us. (I'm not sure Rosie has yet realized there is a fourth human in the house, but boy is she going to be irked when she finds that out.)

In other words, life goes on. We do what we can to keep up. Every day there are sweet moments of the four of us piled into bed together, or Laurel bringing Mark Oliver something to read. Every day there are frustrating moments when everyone is cranky.

And that's what happens after you have a baby.