Turns Out I'm Every Cliche Ever

I slept for almost three hours. I am feeling so coherent that I feel like I could jump to the moon.

Wait. That doesn't sound right.

Oh, yeah, I'm still tired.

Here's the thing. As I'm sure every parent before me has wondered, I'm feeling a bit annoyed about this whole "give birth and need a lot of recovery time afterwards but hey - recover while being awoken every 2-3 hours and while giving up a lot of your nutrients to keep your baby healthy" bit. I'm still sore from labor and delivery and that was almost two weeks ago.

My abs still feel like jelly, for example. Well, to be fair, that might be because they look like jelly. Turns out when muscles get stretched over nine months, they look pretty funny when you remove the reason for their stretching and they just sort of hang out. Also turns out that when your abs are jelly, they don't support your back like normal and then your back is sore, which leads to absolutely HILARIOUS instances of trying to stand up while holding my baby and then kind of crumpling to the ground in a slow motion fall when my back decides it doesn't want to support my weight at that particular moment in time, thanks.

My arms and legs are also sore. Picking up my seven pound, some ounces baby is actually challenging at times. And when I am holding him in bed and have to stand up? Well, give me five minutes to work up the energy.

So why, nature? Why the constant lack of sleep after giving birth? Is the delirium induced as to somehow cause me to love my baby more? Is there some sort of complicated hormone mixture released in absence of sleep? Because I know college students who pull a lot of all-nighters and I don't think they typically love whatever they're doing more because of it.

Here's the current list of cliches, for anyone playing at home:

During labor, I did, in fact:

Indicate that I felt that I might be dying.
Indicate that I couldn't possibly give birth to this baby and that it had to be cut out of me.
Said I'd go med-free and then got an epidural after some half hour of pushing. (Yes, this one is still really bothering me, as I managed all of labor without medicine but then apparently because the world's biggest wuss when it came to delivery).

After labor, I:

Exclaimed that my baby was the cutest baby ever.
Looked lovingly into my husband's eyes and said "we made this!" with a sense of awe and wonder, as I watched Silas cry for the first time as he was placed on my chest for cuddling purposes.

To be fair, (and this is probably a cliche as well, but I'm not sure) I think Smiley and I are doing awesome.

I think.

Actually I think that I am crazy and could still be lying down to sleep some more. After all, it's not quite yet my 10am wake up time!