This morning I've already taken my drugs, showered [!!!], and tried pumping some breast milk. It's barely 7:15am, and I can't go see Ruthe until the shift-change is over around 8. John's still sleeping, so there's not even anyone to talk to.
I think it's going to be days like this in the coming weeks, when I'm at home just waiting around to hitch a ride to the hospital, that will be the hardest. I know I'm a momma, but it's probably going to take some time before I really feel like I have motherly duties. All I'm really good for right now is patting her head and the odd diaper change.
Don't worry about me, I don't think I'm sinking into any kind of post-partum depression. It's just going to take some time to get used to what I can/can't do for Ruthe. And then she'll come home and we'll all get to readjust all over again!
What a drama queen, all this just to ensure that she's the center of our universe. Like she wouldn't have been anyway!