Forgive me if this makes your ovaries ache. But I can’t not share the details of a newborn.
This obsession is quite new for me. The word “Newborn” always conjured up images of sleepless nights and raw nipples. Now that I shouldn’t ever be in the position of caring for a newborn, I’ve fallen in love with this stage. The long snuggles. The bits of dried skin and baby acne. The funny faces that accompany a stretch. The snorts. The little cries. The tiny rolls and wrinkles of skin waiting to be grown into. The smooshy lips ready for food or gassy smiles. The big eyes searching for light. The tiny toes which resemble a much older human’s. And the scent of clean which is unmistakably the smell new life.
If you’ve got a newborn and want a break, call me. I’ll gladly come and “ooh and ahh” over you new baby. To sweeten the deal, I’ll change a few diapers and swaddle an unhappy baby. Why? Because I’ve switched camps and love newborns. But more important, I get to go home. I get to go home and sleep for eight hours just because I can. Oh yeah, and my boobs don’t hurt if the wind blows sideways.