Our placenta is in our freezer. It looks like a sirloin steak. I just knows we will forget about it until the night we pull it out, thinking of grilling up a nice dinner…
As if things couldn’t get any goopier: I just found a little nugget in the bed that prompted the question, “chocolate, or meconium?” the answer was…um…chocolate, but I did not eat it, just in case.
This milk-coming-in thing is kind of hilarious. It Sid just everywhere! Clean blanket? Not any longer! Clean baby face, washed yet again! I can see how one very quickly establishes new standards for “clean,” and that certain body fluids have special privileges for being on stuff and getting to stay there.
I lost it last night considering the beautiful enormity of it all. This perfect, angel creature, each precious present moment, the big, wonderful, unpredictable, terrifying future: holy shit!
How am I doing? I woke up weigh size DD boobs, spent a half hour in the shower milking myself, and now have instructions to feed him as much as he will oblige. Bring it on!
Colace is the best! Another milestone achieved. Now I know I can truly do ANYTHING!