An Ode to Newborn Life
Ibuprofen, Tylenol, and herbal supplements galore.
Engorgement and towels and pumps and bottles and bags and breast-milk apocalypse.
Little whiny howls at 2:35 a.m.
Grumpy dads and snappy moms and squirmy babies with unseen gas bubbles.
Delivered meals in tin foil pans and bottles of wine and fresh flowers.
Soapy, washed baby clothes hanging over the tub and stacks of diapers.
Musical chairs featuring the bouncy seat, Rock N' Play, and bassinet.
Blue baby eyes and squishy nose and teeny tiny hands.
Grey's Anatomy, The Great British Baking Show, Lost, and Manhunt: Unabomber.
Nursing pillows and lots of swearing.
Lots of calls and texts and Facebook messages.
New Nanas and aunties and uncles.
An insane amount of snapping photos because he will never be this little again.
Copious amounts of coffee brewed, and more leftovers, and a stuffed refrigerator.
Lots of kisses and hugs and snuggles.
New challenges, new routines.
Less sleep, less leisure, less wiggle room.
More sacrifice, more selflessness, more giving.
More joy, more love, more happiness, more completeness.
Our lives are better with you in it, Leo, and we love having you as our new person.