i dislike changes to my routine.
but some of my fondest memories were created also through the roughest times:
when the doctor said my baby is in danger, though premature, he has to take her out, i do not protest and i just do it;
when my newborn can't burp properly and is gassy, and i am trying to comfort her and get the bout of gas out;
when the big girl did not take her meal time seriously and she is made to stand in a corner with a red smack across her thighs as forfeit;
when the baby cries and i rely only on your instincts to understand her;
when everyone around me demoralise me by saying breastfeeding is not something i can do and i still try to squeeze the last drop out into the bottle;
when i feed in the dark, not wanting to wake the man up;
when i sleep under the blanket with a head full of thoughts;
when i finally drift off to sleep only to be woken up at 3am to feed and move on;
when i am forbidden to carry the heavy things, i still pick it up and do it, no questions asked;
when i race against time to prepare both girls for bed;
when i am pumping out milk and half ounce is all i have... and more.
and then i look back on these moments and smile because i made it through all that.
happy one month, my little baby :)
