Law Students

A Day Without Daddy

By Andrea

Dan went to work today, leaving Becca and I to hold down the fort together for the first time. It's a one day thing - he's still got a week left on his paid leave - so we'll get to see how it goes and then get him back tomorrow. It's 9:30 and I miss him already.

I don't know how people do this by themselves. My mother literally slept on our loveseat the first three nights (well, we got an airbed but she liked the couch), volunteering in the middle of the night to get the baby back to sleep after a feeding. Support keeps you sane. Dan does the majority of diaper changes during the day, and when Becca wakes up hungry at night, he changes her first while I put on my feeding pillow. It wakes her up enough to eat longer, and then we get more sleep the next cycle. He does anything and everything we need without grossing out or whining - from laundry to buying maxi pads at the store for me to making a Carter's run to buy extra newborn footed PJs, since the 0-3 month fashion avalanche we have doesn't quite fit her yet and the PJ collars hit her face at night and make her root around for milk.

I say thank you a lot, but he has the presence to respond, "Of course."

These are special, if sleep-deprived, times for our marriage. It's still unbelievable that she's here, this perfect, tiny girl that we produced by loving each other. I agree that she looks like both of us, and that makes it even more unbelievable. And we've gotten some nice time together in the hours she naps on her Boppy lounger in the living room. Last night was only OK in terms of long chunks of sleep for Mommy, but the night before was phenomenal, and I woke up feeling great and made us eggs and potatoes and toast for breakfast. Becca slept, and we enjoyed each other's company.

One of the reasons I fell in love with Dan is that he always wanted to be a partner and a father; he saw family as one of the goals of his life, not something that he'd probably do but would get in the way of his sex life and career ambitions, and he always thought being a dad was as important and active a role as being a mom. The days are here now, where I sprawl on the couch, tired, while from the other room I hear my husband say, "THAT's a good poop!" I chose well, I think.

Full post as published by Peanut Butter Burrito on January 23, 2008 (boomark / email).