This is the official end of my two weeks of "maternity leave". I didn't need to take the break from blogging; even if it were physically taxing, I easily would have been able to manage it. (Mom might have disagreed with me on this.) But at the same time, I did need it. I needed to soak in those moments without having to think about what I liked best, or what stood out to me the most.
The comment I've heard the most from others has been something along the lines of, "She's so gorgeous . . . But no. I don't want her." And a part of me gets that. Love the baby, hate the work, right? But I love everything about having a newborn. I wasn't the hugest fan the first time around but it has seriously grown on me over the last 4 years. The sleepless nights; the constant diaper changes; having such limited time to accomplish things between nursing sessions; the extra laundry filled with spit up and baby poo that leaves clothes only reluctantly; the exploded or leaking diapers; the bed time dance from nursing, to burping, to rocking, to the diaper being filled, to nursing . . . I love all of it.
Of course I recognize that my kids so far make it easy. Instant nursers, not a hint of colic, good night time sleepers, my milk production has earned me the nickname of DQ, and as an extra bonus the older siblings simply adore each new addition. And of course I am fully aware that this last labor left me in unusually good shape. I was ready to start getting back to normal an hour after she was born, even though I'm still not feeling ready for the first Sunday back (this might be different if we attended a significantly smaller congregation).
But I believe that if I had a baby who required so much more effort, I would still love every minute. (Even if I was pulling my hair out at the same time.)