On Being Born and Dying
That newborn phase of life: sleepless and relentless and generally draining. Cuddly at times, but mostly a blur for me. Amanda at Last Mom on Earth shared a moving post about newborn life and the death of her grandmother. I loved her wit, her comparisons and her points that babies are experiencing everything for the first time and it's probably crazy overwhelming.
Why wouldn't a new little person cry and cry and cry, given that they used to not be born, and now they were awake for longer and longer periods of time in a place where everything was new and shining and relentless? Where sounds and light and sensations, most of them beautiful and some of them terrible, just wouldn't go away. Where every time they weren't sleeping they were somewhere unfamiliar. Only, the world wasn't only unfamiliar, it was their entire existence exploding into being! Why wouldn't they cry, especially in the evenings, after waking softly and holding it together for hours and hours, until it started to get dark and the world closed up shop and everybody huddled up under a ceiling and said sleep now, darling. Just close your eyes and shut out the world and its wonders and sleep.
I'd flip my shit, too.
Photo Credit: labellavida.