Tonight, when my husband went to the gym, our daughter began screaming. Having been with her the whole day and already dealt with a version of it this morning, I really struggled. All I wanted to do was sleep a bit; I had lay down next to her to do just that, only a couple minutes before she started crying suddenly. Gas and digestion struck again.
And they struck hard.
I was checking in with my friend to see how she was doing after the car wreck she’d had earlier today. But the baby was screaming and wouldn’t stop – the gas just wouldn’t release. My friend and her husband were very supportive over the phone – they have two daughters already, the youngest having recently turned two – including when I started crying hard core, too. They decided just to come over and be with us. So, they did.
Of course, after almost an hour of crying and screaming, the gas suddenly shifted, and our baby was fine and passed out. Right before they got here.
Nonetheless, my friend’s husband took the baby right away and held her on his chest in the recliner, and my friend just hugged me and told me I was alright.
We then snuggled in on the mattress and put on a Bridget Jones movie for a bit before they told me to go do what I needed to do – they had the baby covered. So, I went and ate food for my dinner, then showered. I even shaved for the first time since birth. That was special. And still tender, despite its being almost seven weeks out. But it was great being able to take the time to do it, knowing that I wasn’t needed elsewhere immediately.
I got ready for bed, and only went back out when I heard the baby fussing for nursing. He patted her back to sleep for a bit, and all three of them were adorably passed out in the living room. I hear her fussing again now for nursing, so I’ll go see about taking her from him and nursing her, and letting them go home. Especially since my husband got home a few minutes ago. He’s in the shower now, probably also appreciating the gift of knowing our baby is being taken care of without our having to worry.
Okay, got to go!
Post-a-day 2025
hannah ananas 