Our twins had finally arrived. I never felt so tired and so joyful at the same time, so in love and so overwhelmed. I sat in the hospital bed under the fluorescent lights, tending to my babies and asking every “new mom” question in the book. I was exhausted and blissfully naïve. I had no idea what I was getting into — what we were getting into.
During those early days, several nurses commented that my husband and I worked really well together. He was hands-on right from the get go, despite never having changed a diaper in his life. His first diaper was for my newly circumcised son who made it a habit of projectile peeing on anyone within four-foot radius. My husband woke up with for every feeding for weeks, wiping spit-up, consoling babies, giving bottles — doing whatever needed to be done. He was, and is, a total rock star dad.
I agree with those nurses; we did work well together. Before my kids’ birth, I was warned that having kids could shake a marriage. Maybe we were the exception. Maybe we could glide through the struggles that supposedly came with having newborns.
As weary as we were those first few weeks, a mix of adrenaline and euphoria fueled us. Then, we got tired of being tired. Family and friends no longer stayed over, which meant the social buffer keeping us on our best marital behavior left with them. My husband went back to work and I had to figure out how to do this whole mama thing by myself. But it wasn’t just the learning how to be a mother; it was learning how to parent and be a wife.
Keep reading and get the recipe at Coffee + Crumbs!
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