13 days old on Daddy's chestMr. Curry is so in love and so paranoid about her safety, but in the sweetest way, not fearful but just incredibly protective. He holds in her in the bath while I sponge clean her head and bits, and she looks so fragile and beautiful it makes our hearts ache. Did you know that in the animal kingdom, human babies are born the most vulnerable, the least able to protect or care for themselves at all? Our heads can't be too big or birth would be impossible. Last night's dinner of breakfast for dinner ( eggs with spinach, french toast and sausage ) went over much better in her stomach than the before mentioned beans. I've cut out dairy, chocolate, beans and caffeine. I had to do the same for Lola when she was a nursing infant. Ever is a champion nurser, although she does tend toward a small latch, so I have to reopen her mouth and have her do it again because...ouch.
The anxiety is much better. Thank god for zoloft. My anxiety is chemical, it's not the result of negative thoughts, but the incredible churning chemical muck that happens inside of me like a diver's feet of the springboard, an overabundance of cortisol and adrenaline and depletion of seratonin, a process that I've tried to stop with high dose fish oil and exercise and self help, but that when in it's extremes, only responds to medication. Medium anxiety responds to the other measures, but this panic and clenched muscles and nightmarish feeling that leaves my muscles pulled and my heart skipping beats and my body jerking...that needs stronger muscle. And my children need ME, their mother, not the fearful, shaky and terrorized person I am when in the grips.
Mr. Curry.... is the love of my life. To see him move from reading Lola Harry Potter the other night to holding Ever while I shower is incredible for me. To have his eyes and voice and hands steadying me when I am lost is one of the biggest blessings of my life.
