New motherhood is surprisingly not a continuation of all of this.
It's normal. The baby is here. She has needs. We meet them. And the world spins madly on (to borrow a phrase from the Weepies). The baby's crying. She's hungry. She needs a new diaper. She's sleeping. Normal. Tasks are completed. Days go by. The baby's a new acquaintance. She's not some made-up person. She's Lucy. There's no more guessing and anticipating surprises.
Sigh. Does this make sense? I'm tired.
And for sure I'm emotional. I dropped my Mama-a-llama off at the airport this afternoon. And I cried. I got stuck in some God-awful traffic on the way home, and called my husband crying because the baby started fussing and I didn't want her to cry while I was crying stuck in traffic. I eventually got home, nursed the baby and spilled a whole glass of water on my lap in our new leather recliner. I cried.
So now I'm doing what any normal new mother would do with such an afternoon. I put the now-sleeping baby in the bassinet and I'm eating pie.