On the 22nd October, in a bit of a whirlwind 4 hours, our newest little person arrived. Boy. 7lb 14oz. Natural home birth. Perfect.
This tiny little new life completes us as a family. The Girl Child and Boy Child 1 (as he shall now be known) are besotted. He sleeps a bit, he poops more, he eats a lot. The eating is draining – thank God for Netflix (I’m 32 hours into a major Buffy marathon).
I’d forgotten the ‘newborn’ – the love, the tiny hands, the fierce protection, the extreme sleep deprivation. He graced me with 4 minutes sleep that first night. 4. The next night was an improvement, I got 11 minutes. So it was going in the right direction. Thankfully eBay comes to the rescue during the long nights and, because it’s a dream like state, you completely forget what you ordered so the mystery parcels turning up are very exciting!
Into week 2. He sleeps more, I sleep more. It’s not consistent but it’s manageable. And it’s way more than Boy Child 1 ever slept. Because he never slept. Ever.
I still haven’t managed a school run. I’ve been dressed before 12. I’ve drank hot tea and I’ve had to microwave my dinner on more than one occasion. So it’s swings and roundabouts.
I’ve read a few blog posts and articles online recently which talk about ‘the village’. They say it takes a village to raise a child and I am lucky that I have that, in the very truest sense. The offers of help have been overwhelming and as this is child number 3 I am over any sense of ‘proving’ myself and will readily accept any help that comes our way, should we require. We are very lucky to have what we have.
And so we survive week 2.
While the others are at school, he’s my new sidekick and we shall have many adventures. He definitely seems the adventuring kind.