I'm completely smitten. And of course, Ryan is too.
We stayed in the hospital for 2 nights and in those 2 nights there were probably 2,000 kisses given-- a few between Ryan and I, but a majority on Lincoln's chubby cheeks. We celebrated his 1 day old birthday the following night at 8:47 by smooshing his face with both of our kisses. I like to imagine what he's thinking and in this last picture he's saying, "Oh come on guys, you're embarrassing me here!"
Isn't life wonderful? As a whole of course. Because there are moments and periods in life where stuff just down right sucks. But as a whole, life is beautiful. Creating life is a humbling gift we've been blessed with and has made our life even more beautiful. :)
The two nights in the hospital were magical and quite peaceful. Lincoln was SO pleasant and easy to take care of. But he fooled us, and my mother intuition tells me this won't be the last. He wasn't quite a breeze like he was in the hospital the night we brought him home. I don't know what it is about the transition from hospital setting to the home-- I bet those nurses have something to do with it. They probably have some secret with keeping a newborn asleep through the night, but hospital policy doesn't allow that information to leave the hospital. Unfortunately, as a surgical nurse, I didn't receive that particular training. Maybe I can make friends with with an L&D nurse and swindle the secret out of her. I'll get back to you on that...
Which brings us to the day we brought our son home for the first time. And he slept and he slept and he slept.. which is great right? Except it was all during the day. And then night came, which was the longest night of my life-- this is coming from the girl who requires 9 hours of sleep a night. It's a requirement, not just something I enjoy. And then the second night came, and it was the same.
Only a few days in and I found myself breaking down crying. Normal right? Almost like a mother's rite of passage. Lack of sleep, lack of energy, a recovering body, let's not forget extremely sore breasts, and lack of faith in myself to be the mother he deserves. Our middle of the night feedings are the most endearing to me. I hold him in my arms, stroke his face and play with his little fingers. We rock back and forth and I tell him over and over how much I love him. I won't be perfect and I won't know everything, but one thing I will do is love him with all my heart... the heart that he's already stolen from me. :)