As in my son has been home for a week and two days. We are exhausted, sore--normal deliveries have stitches too!--and most importantly, learning about and getting to know each other.
I've been doing my best to balance my household chores with caring for my little one. Oh I'm sure there are those who will think I'm crazy for doing so. In fact, I have heard many "don'ts" that I, with all due respect, think are crazy.
Not bathing has been one of them, and staying in bed whilst I'm in pain is another. Truth is I'd go mad if you made me stay in bed for more than a day. And it's a very good sign that I'm well and truly ill if I stay in bed without complaints for 48+ hours.
I did just that upon arrival last week. We left the hospital at around 2pm, slept the entire afternoon and as much of the evening as Llew allowed us, and kept resting until the day after. My schedule became more regular as the days wore on and my husband and I got to know Llew better and he, us.
Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were mercifully quiet in that it was just us at home. For Christmas dinner a cousin came on board to help a bit around the house while I recouped. Thursday was check up day for both of us and most of our morning was spent outside the house and later, asleep.
Friday and Saturday my husband went out to run errands and make the extra purchases we hadn't managed to make prior to Llew's arrival. I felt recovered enough to do the laundry those nights and was actually quite happy to feel functional again.
Fast forward to today. I can't believe it's only been a week. The sleepless/restless nights have been endless, days have run into each other and all I have to go on for time are sure schedules like trash collection days , TV shows, and alarms.
I've begun returning to my usual routine. It's psychologically helping me feel better. There's much I still need to learn and master. But baby steps. Always baby steps.