Reasonable things to cry about in the days following giving birth

As a child, I was very, very sentimental and very much a big cry-baby. This is a great way to spend your childhood, especially if the mother assigned to you is maybe a touch insensitive, and thinks the unreasonable tears of a small child are HILARIOUS. I cried when Christmas was over, when mylar balloons deflated and when cut flowers died. Then I grew up and got jaded and medicated and decided to only cry watching Pixar movies. Then, two-and-a-half weeks ago I had baby, and poof-a-rino! I'm five years old and bawling like g.d. idiot in the car after seeing E.T.

In my defense, my labor and delivery experience was very, very long and very, very dramatic and totally awesome and has colored all this "new mom" business and makes me sob anytime I remember any small detail about those two days. Also, my baby is the most beautiful and the most sweet and precious and patient person ever. She's worth crying like a dummy over.

Here are some other reasonable things I've cried over:

1. When we were leaving the hospital, we were double checking that we had all our stuff. My water bottle was on the side table and Micah said "Uh oh! Don't forget your water bottle!" I told him that I thought I would leave it there as a symbolic gesture. I explained, voice quivering, that I'd had that water bottle, purchased at a CVS in the Port Richmond neighborhood of Philadelphia for $2.99, throughout my pregnancy. Now that my pregnancy has ended, I explained, I shall leave behind that water bottle--the water bottle that hydrated me and my then unborn child during the long and hot summer months. I would abandon that Rubbermaid brand water bottle in the building where my pregnancy came to a happy end. Adieu, water bottle with the blue cap! I will never forget your kindness! Your generosity! The way you never leaked in my purse! Micah laughed at me and grabbed the water bottle. I'm glad I still have it.

2. I was emptying the bathroom trash several days after being home from the hospital and starting crying at its contents. You see, the layers of trash were a timeline of the week that changed my life: The bottom layer of the garbage's contents were from a time before I knew that my beautiful daughter would have my dark hair, her father's face, the most lovely long fingers! There was the empty package of soap I unwrapped before I knew I would give birth in less than a week's time! The mascara that I discarded when I realized that I may have bought it when I still lived in Los Angeles! Then, the disposable underwear they give you at the hospital; the empty can of Dermoplast; used ice packs--there it all was. Nothing but a few snotty tissues serving as border between my life as an uncomfortable pregnant woman, and the mother of the most extraordinary human beeeeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnngggggggg! Oh! If only my bathroom trash could speak! What would it say (besides, um, you should empty your trash more often)?

3. I could barely listen to any music when we first got home. Just like your first break-up with a boy, any song can be completely applicable to your life at that moment. I liked to listen to this song and cry, cry, cry while holding my tiny baby:



So, I guess I am no longer as dead inside as I thought. Amazing people that inexplicably fall out of your body and stare like they know you will do that to a gal, I guess.