The day we took the Bambinos home from the hospital, the motherly nurse sat us down and explained that my hormone levels would be dropping so I might find myself crying for no reason.
She also told us that nursing mama's make something that causes them to be tired while nursing, making it easy for me to go back to sleep, but (obviously) daddy's don't so B needs to make sure to take care of himself.
Ok, we can deal with that.
My sister shows up to help us out, we pack them up, and I call B's mom on the way home to see if she wants to come visit them.
|Picture from my other blog. I was too lazy to re-watermark it.|
I remember that all of a sudden, I was feeling kind of "odd." I leaned forward to get something off the coffee table hoping to distract me from the feeling when suddenly I started crying.
This wasn't a few lone tears but true waterworks.
Alarmed, B, his mom and my sister all asked me what was wrong. In the split second since I'd started crying, I became embarrassed and lied that my incision hurt.
B rushed to hand me whatever it was I didn't really need but reached for anyway and I settled back into the couch.
I was not prepared for how quickly I would become a weepy mess - the nurse had only talked to us about it two hours ago! I also envisioned nobody but B around when it happened.
It happened one more time that night, but all was made better when my sister grabbed my boob.
But that's a story for another day.