And then this week happened.
I don't feel like reveling in negativity, so I'm going to spare you the details besides this: I need to trust myself more that I know what's best for my daughter instead of allowing myself to be persuaded by others to do things that, in my heart, I know are not right for her. Also, naptime sucks.
But, really, it is strange how some of the memories are already starting to fade. I know that giving birth was the most difficult thing I ever had to do, and I know that during and immediately afterwards I thought "I am sooooo having a c-section next time" (for the record, that is not actually my plan), but the magnitude of the whole "18 hours of labor with no drugs" experience is slipping away from me. And I'm still pretty tired a lot of the time, but it's nothing like the desperate feeling I had when L was a newborn and I hadn't slept more than 2 hours in a row or more than 5 hours a day (on a good day) for weeks on end. Except I can't really remember what that felt like -- I just know that I went through it.
What is it about babies that makes us forget the bad stuff so fast?
(L's squishy face adorably documented by Chrissy Deming Photography)
Oh yeah. Right.