It's selfish, I know, but I was pretty happy to be home from the hospital. While I appreciated all the attention from the doctors and nurses, the hospital is nowhere near as comfortable as my house. All my stuff is here. It's less chaotic. Plus, my bed is awesome. What they don't tell you, however, is that when you leave the chaos and discomfort of the hospital, you'll be heading straight into AnxietyLand.
In AnxietyLand, you spend every waking moment wondering if your child is safe. Even if your child is resting in your arms, you worry if he's wrapped in his blanket too tightly or if his neck is uncomfortable or if he's eating enough. You worry he might be too hot. You worry he might be too cold. You worry his temperature is just right because you read a blog that said his temperature should be too hot and another blog that said it should be too cold.
I asked my dad if this is what I have to look forward to for the next eighteen years. He laughed and said, "Eighteen years?! Try 'the rest of your LIFE!'"
Good to know, I guess. I can start saving up for my ulcer surgery NOW.
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