Megan Pettit shares stories from a new mom
I like to be organized and in control. I mean, I liked to be. The birth of my first child through C-section wasn’t going to hinder my ways. No siree, my house was going to be spotless. Milk would be pumped and labeled. I’d be into my pre-pregnancy clothes in no time. Even after my son was born I still clutched on to these delusions.
The day we came home from the hospital, two days before Christmas, surprise wannabe visitors called us to come see the baby. Proud daddy triumphantly said they could come over without discussing it with me. I had been buzzing about so happily that he didn’t think it would be a problem. I was up and moving, tidying even. Maybe I was high off the excitement of giving birth to a healthy baby, or maybe it was the drugs, but I was acting like I was completely back to normal.
