They say the first three months of a baby's life are more like a fourth trimester. The baby doesn't start acting and looking like a proper baby until after that, and we as the parents are basically just in survival mode until then. I find this to be very true. So here I am, surviving. Everyone says they don't do well on little sleep, but I tend to think they don't mean it as much as I do. Not only am I a zombie when excessively tired, but I become a monster to the rest of my family. I get depressed and full of rage all at once. I take to cursing, mostly mentally but sometimes verbally, and genuinely hate everything and everyone. It's not a pretty sight (unlike these feet - can you believe the stretch on those toes?!).
I'm not sure why I'm writing this. Maybe to rid anyone of any preconceived notions they may have that I am some sort of Super Mom who cooks and bakes with a newborn (or while super pregnant and caring for an invalid husband) and poops sunshine and daisies. That's my way of coping with the stress, my escape (the cooking, not that pooping of sunshine and daisies. I wish I had that talent!). Clearly, there's been a lot of stress lately. But, at least there's always good food in the house! And don't worry - I'm not on a ledge or anything. I just look forward to the near future when the baby and I can finally wake up and start finding our new normal.
Besides, this is all worth it.