I'm very tired but I cannot sleep. I keep finding myself things to do and the top on the list is looking at my son. At the moment he is on my left in the moses basket his father bought him yesterday at night.
He wakes up now, slowly and I can swear he is already bigger or the basket got smaller in the last hour.
I need to remind myself to keep writing. Don't just sit and think, keep writing. I will regret if I won't. That's the only thing I can do. That's what will keep me sane.
I realised how fast I wanted to become everything I need to be- a good mother, a good house wife and partner. I didn't realise that I would just gave a birth couple of days ago, after 48h long labour, after 9+months of growing this amazing human inside me. There is no way I could handle pressure, so I broke down on Tuesday, when my partner was away and I called him and I sweared at him, and I felt so lonely and tired and overwhelmed. I looked on my son, the calmest person I've seen, looking on me with his 'what's a big deal, mom' look already. I cried. I held him so close, so tight and I cried on his freshly washed onsie.
My partner came back home straight away and I think at that point I couldn't even vocalize my feelings. Midwife visit was due that day so I had to go and wash my face, eat a cake, drink a tea, bring myself back together.
Since then I cry every day. I'm not depressed, but all this mix of emotions from every day are hitting hardly when day is getting ready to end. It's getting quiet and unconciounsly I'm getting more relaxed so all this is pouring out.
And my body, wow, what a war zone. I went downstairs with rubbish and to check post couple of days ago and I just put my nose out for couple of steps. And I felt like all my bones are in wrong place and my lungs are underwater. I came back upstairs and cried again. Now I undersand what they mean when they talk about baby steps.
But above all there is love I've never felt before. Never. And nothing can ever beat it. And it's stronger and stronger each day, each morning, with every burp and every breath of milky air coming from his mouth.
Sea of love. Janek, 8 days old.
Ps. I started writing my birth story as I don't want to forget any detail. It takes ages. It's a long and important story, so maybe it shouldn't take any less time than it will.