Six Weeks

She was born with the ability make the perfect teeny tiny worried face. She gets that from me.

I have my six-week checkup this afternoon. That means it's been six weeks since I last hugged the toilet, and I can still cheer myself up with thoughts of that non-puking streak.

Evelyn will be weighed, which makes me a little bit nervous, but also really excited to see how the milk's been working. She's spouted an extra chin over the past couple weeks. I love it.

I will be weighed, which makes me a little bit nervous too. Especially since I've actually been able to eat for the past month and a half.

But then... that will be it. It's been the longest/shortest six weeks of my life. I look at the Mouse and see her growing right before my eyes and I want to stop and cuddle with her forever, even when she's crying and cluster feeding for hours and hours and hours. And I'm not getting much sleep, and sometimes it's beyond difficult, but I don't want it to end. I wonder if this is how I'll always feel. I felt this way even in the hospital right after I had her - I don't want this part to be over. Even when it's not perfect. I'm just trying to hold on to every minute.

I sure do love this worried little mouse.