Today Maya is a week old. Time sure flew by. It feels like I just had her yesterday. I love her so much already. I didn’t think I had room in my heart left to love another. I thought my son took and kept all the love for himself. I thought I’d given it all to him. I can’t wait for him to meet her. Due to how troubling my health was after she got here, he’s still up in Cleveland at his grandparents house having a ball.
I’m sitting here as I’m typing this crying my eyes out. I knew those hormones was going to wait after I had her to rear their ugly head. I’m so happy and I feel like I don’t deserve it. I’m always beating myself up and oftentimes, it isn’t warranted.
As far as Maya goes, shes wonderful, she eats a lot, sleeps a lot, pees and poops a lot. She doesn’t cry a lot or open her eyes a lot, but that will probably come with time. I noticed that I’m less stressed out this time around. When my son was born, I kind of hated life. Late night formula feedings were such a pain. I regret not sticking to breastfeeding, listening to those people at WIC telling me to switch to formula because they thought I wasn’t making enough still bug me. Now, all I have to do is pop a boob out and everyone is happy.
I also don’t feel like I’m doing this alone and getting judged every five seconds because they feel since they raised their nieces and nephews that they have the right to belittle my new parenting. It feels good to be at ease. I have to say that I’m really enjoying parenting.