3 AM and Other Extreme Sports

So here I am at 3:17 AM, sitting at my kitchen island with Sophie latched on like a tiny vampire, and I thought - why not document this beautiful chaos?

3 AM and Other Extreme Sports

They don’t tell you in all those pregnancy books that breastfeeding is like being on call 24/7 for a very demanding, very small boss who communicates exclusively through crying and occasionally smiles just enough to make you forget how tired you are.

The quiet moments at 3 AM

The quiet moments are actually kind of magical though. Just me and this perfect little person I somehow made, the house completely silent except for her tiny breathing. Until she needs to burp, which is apparently a production that requires my full attention and sometimes involves spit-up on whatever clean shirt I managed to put on.

Burp duty at ungodly hours

I’m writing this one-handed because Sophie has decided my arm is her personal pillow and I’ve learned not to question the baby’s preferences.

Blogging while baby sleeps - the ultimate multitask

Marcus keeps telling me to sleep when the baby sleeps, which is adorable advice from someone who isn’t attached to a tiny human every few hours. But honestly? Even in my zombie state, I can’t imagine being anywhere else. This is the hardest, most exhausting, most incredible thing I’ve ever done.