First Night at home. Third night in total.
He is asleep. Finally. She is asleep. Finally. I am watching them both sleep and hoping it can last more than the five minutes it already has. It is the one thing in the world that I want more than anything at this precise moment.
Everything everyone has ever told me about this is true. I have already felt wracked with guilt for sleeping while she does not, for not having the physical means to feed this tiny person who I am so utterly fascinated by.
Over ten minutes now. The most sleep my wife has had in over 24 hours. Her soft snores are music to my ears, with my son's short, tiny breaths adding a second track to the mix.
He looks grumpy even when he's asleep. He is almost too cute to bear. It still hasn't all sunk in yet.
Fifteen minutes. Thank you little man, not just for doing it, but for proving that you can do it, and for saving your mum's sanity in the process. Maybe she'll stop hallucinating for a little while now, and have a little respite from the raging headache she's been enduring.
Me, I am the lucky one. Tonight my prize is watching my two sleeping beauties. I've also grabbed more sleep already than the other two combined.
He's stirring now. But I feel like I'm already winning.
Disclaimer: typed on a phone, any and all spelling or typing errors are its fault, not my tired brain's.