This is going to be written as long as Andor is resting or occupied. Here goes.
Surgery is behind me. My body is fully functioning and normal. My linea negra is still quite dark and runs the length of my torso and down the back of each leg. My hair is still quite full and hasn’t begin to fall out. My arms are getting stronger every day from holding the baby. I dance and walk and stretch for exercise. I am still hanging on to about fifteen extra pounds, which reminds me to eat healthy and walk.
I’ve settled into a routine that I like. Andor, of course, is the center of my universe right now, so everything hinges on him. He’s so easy going that I can do anything I choose, really. He remains happy, healthy, and even tempered. I enjoy him every minute.
Had I not read so much about attachment parenting, however, I think I would be exhausted, bitter, and half insane.
Andor sleeps with us, I breast feed him on cue, I respond to his cries within seconds, I wear him during the day, and we have been practicing infant potty training. Through this style of parenting I have discovered that each one of his little cries mean something, and he feels confident that I will satisfy his needs. So, he’s relaxed, happy and learning (and so am I).
I fall deeper in love with him and his dad every day.
That’s all the time I have, gotta run and play with a tiny baby.