Once upon a time, there was a little girl who dreamed of being a mommy. She wanted, more than anything, to have a child and knew her dream would come true one day. She would sit for hours thinking up names to call her baby. Eventually this little girl grew up. Though she'd met and married her Prince Charming, she was having trouble conceiving. She began to realize that her dream wasn't going to come true without a great deal of medical help. So she went on a long journey through the world of fertility treatments. When none of them worked, she got frustrated and depressed. She felt like a failure. And then one day, finally, she became pregnant. She was thrilled beyond belief. She had a wonderful pregnancy and a perfect baby girl. At long last, her dream of being a mommy had come true. But instead of being relieved and happy, all she could do was cry.
In an attempt to gain control, I decided to unpack immediately and tidy up the house. Chris kindly reminded me that I'd just had a baby and the tidying up could wait. He ordered me to bed and added that once we all got some sleep, I could neaten to my heart's desire. He was under the impression that the baby would drift off into a peaceful slumber and we would all get caught up on the sleep we had been deprived of in the hospital. I must admit that I, too, naively believed that because we were home and away from constant interruptions, rest was imminent. Almost every mother I knew had let her new baby sleep at least one night in the hospital nursery before going home so the mom could launch into baby land slightly rested. Since we were too afraid of the press or even of a staff member sneaking photos of Rowan, we never let her out of our sight. Consequently, neither Chris nor I had really slept in five days, and we were feeling quite beaten up because of it. Unfortunately we soon found out that being home hardly provided the respite we craved.
