Buying a soda or a little treat specifically to have while feeding the baby. Resting anytime I can get it. Falling asleep on the couch, the bed, the rocking chair or even the floor, if I feel like it. The fan I drag from room to room like it’s an extension of me.
Setting my work status to OOO and not looking at a computer for 12 weeks straight. Easy dinners and GrubHub and DoorDash. Ignoring the never-ending to-do list and the piles of laundry that seem to accumulate overnight.
Not texting back and not feeling guilty about it. And when I do respond, mostly just sending baby pictures. Staying the hell away from social media and Google and Amazon. Letting my world get really small for a little while.
The extra time with Kevin because working from home meant we were suddenly together a whole lot more. Laughing a lot, talking about everything and nothing, and being reminded daily that the two of us just go really well together.
Saying yes when we hear the ice cream man coming. Playing cards one-handed with a baby in my arms. Being genuinely excited to press play on my audiobook during a middle-of-the-night feeding. Remembering that being here is the thing I’m supposed to be doing.
Twelve weeks of feeding and snuggling and resting and healing. Days that somehow feel incredibly long and like they’re disappearing much too quickly. Somehow operating on a completely different timeline than the rest of the world.
And, for just a little bit longer, pretending maternity leave isn’t almost over.