It was 3:45am, and I was back in that oh-so-familiar spot, once again. The dark bathroom, illuminated only by the flashlight on my phone and the tiny light on the humidifier (that was actually empty because I forgot to refill it earlier). The water in the shower was running, and the white noise machine was set to extra loud. I had my 3 week old baby girl swaddled tight and tilted juuust right, while I bounced her up and down, up and down on the yoga ball as she cried.
That dang yoga ball…I have nightmares of that yoga ball after being permanently glued to it for months. Colicky baby mama’s – you feel me? I had only slept 15 minutes that night, and longed for just a 2 hour stretch.
As I scanned the bathroom while I bounced, I felt overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with STUFF.
So many clothes on the floor. A diaper in the corner (was it clean? Was it dirty? It was anyone’s guess at that point). A baby bouncer, toys my 3 year...