Today is Linnea’s due date. I tried to fold her body up this morning to see how she could fit inside me, and I just couldn’t see it. She hasn’t even hit 8 pounds! I don’t know how my friend Sarah (who is my size) squeezed out a 10 pounder. It seems impossible.
So here I am with a two week old. A stereotypical new mom. Sleeplessness? Check. Worry about every little thing? (She’s congested! Ah! She holds her breath when she sleeps she must have sleep apnea and therefore is at risk for SIDS! AH! AH!) Check. Wild hair? Check. Fits of crying? Crusty shirt? Check. I have arrived.