One-month birthday

The day Will was born (and the two days before) felt like a very, very long dream, and I have a hard time believing that that dream happened a full month ago. After the first fourteen hours of not sleeping due to strong but irregular contractions, I was sure that the baby would never come and I'd be in pain for the rest of my life. Twelve hours later we were off to the hospital. A few hours after that the midwife broke my water, and I was still pretty sure the baby would never be born. And an hour after that I didn't care if the baby would ever be born as long as they would just let me die. But they wouldn't, and after an hour and a half of pushing Will was born. We didn't find out in advance if the baby was a boy or a girl, but the midwife assumed it was a girl and kept saying, "Here she comes, that's the way, she's almost here, keep pushing!" And then Will popped out and they told me it was a boy and put him on my chest, where I saw him and held him for the first time. And that was a whole month ago. I've never been so tired or happy in my life.

Well, Will has chosen to celebrate his one-month birthday by crying during every waking, non-eating moment of the afternoon and evening. He was surprisingly calm in the morning, though. I think he's just feeling his age and it makes him cranky. I think he has some gas, but I'm not sure that it is the entire reason for his distemper. I think it's just one of those days. I hope tomorrow isn't. Life with a little baby is hard, but after a month it sort of feels like this how it always was. I guess that means we're getting better at it.