My little boy is three months old. Or, twelve weeks and six days of we’re being precise. He is (excuse the cliché) the light of my life. I adore him. I spend my days trying to make him smile (he isn’t a ‘napper’) and my nights staring intensely at the baby monitor to see if he’s still breathing.
I’m a first time mum, so everything is new. I constantly wonder if what I’m doing is right. What if he’s too cold? Maybe I’ll stick another blanket on him, just to be sure – he screams because I’ve woke him up checking the back of his neck for the millionth time. What if he’s too hot now? This is a constant worry for me. I know, it’s mental, I just can’t help myself.
I spend countless hours wishing he’d go to sleep, just for five minutes, just to let me shower. Then, when he does, I wake him up because I just have to check he’s still breathing. It’s insane, I know. I just can’t help myself.
I know there are millions of people out there feeling exactly how I do, right now. It’s comforting to know that I’m not on this surreal journey alone. This wonderful, exhausting journey.
😊
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