Luca is now sleeping in his cot, after I bottled-fed him his last meal of the day, which Mum expressed. I'm never one to overplay my own achievements, but move over Neil Armstrong, Diego Maradona, and Mahatma Fucking Ghandi, because I am the greatest. That's how it felt at the time anyway.
Mum makes this kind of landmark achievement almost every day, with grace and not a hint of self-congratulation. Good for her. I was part of something big tonight.
Incredibly ordinary situations, like drinking an uninterrupted bottle of wine with Mum, take on the glow of privilege. We are here, he is sleeping, all is well.
But I don't want to jinx it and condemn us to months of screaming, so I shouldn't get smug and complacement. Oops, too late.
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Now, it's all going to hell! Never rejoice Gabriel. Never. Ever. The Baby Gods will come and steal it away.
ReplyDeleteHow was the wine? I hope you drank the entire bottle.
Hugs and Mocha,
Stesha