MISSING: One Small Angelic Child. Has been replaced by extra from Gremlins or possibly Twilight. Lacks basic ability to sleep but can communicate with dogs and use whale song. Takes human form during daylight hours or in the company of others. At night, able to recreate that scene from the Exorcist. Including the vomit.
Life is unrecognisable. Everything has changed. Every. Single. Thing.
Let me run you through that list again.
Job. Relationship. House. Car. Social. Body. Brain.
And here I am. 7 months later. Still scaling a learning curve shaped like the North face of the Eiger but still here and loving it. Most of the time. There are moments when I could happily put him in the laundry bin but they are few and unfulfilled.
So the 2 am feed, is just that. A feed, a lifeline, a humorous story or two about the journey so far. Posted or written at that time in the morning that has now taken on a whole new meaning. No longer the time you stumble out of a taxi on the way home after a good night out. No longer the time you get up for work or a flight on a bad day. 2am is feeding time. A time when thousands of parents wake bleary eyed and slightly disorientated as their newest child mews, cries and, if not attended to, screams for food, warmth, love and attention. 2am is the time you begin to figure out how the milk warming machine works; the time you curse your other half for being a sounder sleeper than you; the time when you find yourself wondering whether it’s possible to fall asleep while standing up while still holding the baby and the bottle. 2am is the moment you question your sanity about getting into all of this in the first place.