Oh, by the by, I had my six-week checkup, too. My, but that’s an uncomfortable experience. Actually, it was fine the speculum was chilly, the breast exam was weird. It was the anticipation that drove up my blood pressure. I mean, the last time someone was down there, someone also came out of there.
Anywho, it’s over and done with. I got to show off the baby and chat about my cha-cha, which seems to be in fine shape except that it’s not all that easy to kegel. How long is that supposed to take, anyway?
So we got the nookie go-ahead. But I haven’t mentioned this fact to my husband. I mean, it’s my first week back at work, I’m out of my mind stressed out, and last night I was on the computer till 1am. When I got to bed, I found Abby in the middle of it, unswaddled, yet sleeping happily snuggled up next to my husband. Can’t blame her; it’s my favorite spot, too.
Oddly, she slept almost eight hours like that unswaddled. At seven weeks. Is that normal? Why am I asking? Don’t look a gift newborn in the mouth, that’s what my mom always told me. (No, she didn’t really.)