The fourth week.

And I'm a mother to a two year old and a one-month old. 

It kind of blows my mind. 

Like last night - I'm home alone - & I wake up to a crying baby. I get out of bed totally delirious & for a solid 45 seconds cannot figure out what to do. Literally - I stand there, not able to grasp what is going on or what I'm supposed to be doing, nor do I have any semblance of a firm grasp on whose baby is making that noise.

(I worked really hard to shake the cobwebs from my brain, looked at my phone to see what time it was, & remembered that my new child probably needed to be fed. Crisis averted.)

Really, there have been multiple moments this week where I've thought that I've just totally lost my marbles. I've definitely misplaced a few. I could blame this on a lot of things, because really, these post-partum weeks are no walk through the park, of course - between various bodily fluids (ugh), feeling chubby in all of the wrong places (I loathe big boobs, amongst other things), nursing & the surges of various exiting & entering hormones - it's just a lot going on, really.

I could go on & on about my mental state & all of the things that I'm feeling (phases of inadequacy, mourning, depression, grief, uncertainty, happiness, gratitude, confidence - you know, depending on the hour), but if you're my friend then we've probably talked about it already (& if you're my friend & we haven't, it's probably because I've been solo parenting a sick toddler & a newborn all week & rarely am able to come up for air). Thank you so much for the reassurance, validation & nice things you've said to me, friends - via social media & otherwise. I've felt carried this week. 

Really - this is why I believe God: Because last night, sweet Quinn woke up a half-dozen times between 10pm & 6am, unable to breathe through his nose, totally congested, & absolutely miserable. His little brother of course woke up to eat every three hours, which meant that I was a ping pong ball between the bassinet in our room & the big kid nursery upstairs - without sleeping in between, since they were at least kind of enough to at least give me the convenience of staggering their wakings. 

I'm sure I got a solid two hours of sleep (for the second time this week).

Sleep deprivation is one of the very absolute worst things to experience. It exacerbates anything that is already hard & makes it a dozen times worse. 

So this morning (a relative term, really), as I sat there lying on my couch with Q while we watched endless choo choo videos while I tried to will my body to move or at least to just keep my eyes open - I heard a knock on my door. I opened it (a risky move considering my physical appearance) & saw my friend Britta standing on my doorstep. She looked at me, said she'd been thinking about me for the past 24 hours, & wondered if I needed help. I burst into shameless tears, naturally.

Hello, rock bottom! Ouch. 

People, seriously. There is a God, & he knows us, & bless Britta's heart for saying her prayers every night. 

She took my sick child for the morning to play with trains at her house & have lunch at the park - & I stayed home to sleep while my baby slept & pick up the pieces of my sanity off of the floor. 

This week, I've had people bring me meals unannounced (because I know it's hard to eat when you're taking care of two kids on your own), groceries, medicine for Q when I couldn't get out of the house, vapor bath, fun toys & movies to watch... I asked my mom if we could fly her down next week (while Mike is in London) & she said of course without hesitation. Several of my siblings call me every day, you know, just to say hi (i.e. have you totally lost it yet?).

There is nothing more humbling than having a baby, I think - except maybe having another one after you think that you've more-or-less got it figured out. 

I've felt a really tremendous outpouring of love from all directions, which is especially nice given my hanging on to the bottom of my proverbial rope state of mind. 

I couldn't be more grateful.  

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I have a one month old, & I'm really learning to love him. I find that I am a realist about newborns (they are hard - at least the way I make them - & it takes a while to get to know them), but I'm certain this doesn't make me a worse mother than those who view this stage as a blissful & happy blur of baby powder & cuddles. But still - He is sweet, & sleepy, & increasingly squishy (bigger than Q was, I think). I'm grateful that he arrived without complication, & that we've both recovered quickly & well (as my doctor said at my two week appointment with her, The vagina is the fastest & best healing part of the body! It's amazing! Hooray.). He has a loud voice when he chooses to use it, still doesn't generally love a binky, & prefers to sleep with one arm out of his swaddle. There are moments when I look at him & forget that he is West & not Quinn, which means that they look quite a bit alike, & maybe that I'm probably still in a little bit of denial about having two kids. But really - they have their twin moments, but more where it's evident that they'll be their own individual kinds of unique-but-clearly-related. I think West looks more like his mama, which makes me proud (I told Mike we can each have one - since Q is obviously his father's son). He's a good baby (I don't really believe in bad babies though - just babies we're not totally understanding), although if I could zoom forward 3 months in the sleeping / eating department, I'd probably regain my sanity a bit sooner. He currently has an alarm clock set for every-three-hours all night & all day long. I feel like I live on my couch with a boppy pillow around my waist. 

Q wakes up in the morning & asks for his brother first thing. If I tell him that he's sleeping he always says, Sshh!!! He likes to put his cheek on West's fuzzy head, & always runs to his bassinet when he cries. I think they'll be really good friends someday. In the meantime, he's still a bit indifferent. Instead, he wants to go to the park all the time (including at 3am last night), conquered the giant slide yesterday all by himself for the first time, & can navigate himself proficiently around YouTube & the iPad while he has to keep himself occupied while I'm busy feeding West (he prefers train videos & anything to do with school busses). Tender mercies in the form of electronics. 

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Photos.