When I was expecting the mackerdoodle, I read the blog of a woman much further in her pregnancy than I was. She wrote that she was looking forward to staying home for six months and telling everyone she couldn’t do anything because she had a new baby. I was stunned! Six months! The thought of being housebound for six months made me feel claustrophobic and a little sad. In fact, I did not stay housebound for even six weeks with the mackerdooodle.
Now I find myself in recovery mode again and the post came back to my mind. My parents went home today, I’m not supposed to drive for another week, and I’m beginning to think, “Hmmmm. I wonder who can come over and visit?”
Don’t get me wrong, now. I spent two hours today with both of my children cuddled up on my lap, and I have never felt more satisfied in my life. I love being a mama, and I love being able to say “the children” in reference to my family. But I am not holed up in my house using my baby as an excuse to avoid people. Rather, I am hoping the baby is an excuse for people to come by and see me.
That’s how I’d like to recover.