I went to the hospital yesterday and saw Angel's brand new baby girl. She was not even twenty four hours old, pink all over, with little slits for eyes. Absolutely beautiful. When I held her she felt like a warm bag of rice, only soft all over. She made the most wonderful whimpering sounds.
I think once I am pregnant I will want to be pregnant with a little more steadfastness than I have now-my feelings about it change throughout any given day. I feel like I am just barely recovering from Ethan, and now to begin again? I know now the recovery time is about two years.
If you ever really recover. It's more like adjusting.
Which is not to say that babies aren't the most precious, mysterious things in the world.
Riley came home from her surgery yesterday and today she is not eating. I really want her to eat; she is so skinny and she'll look deathly if she loses weight. But she won't-not even soft beef stick treats. I'd feed her prime rib if she'd take it.
I feel more confident about her because Jen's husband, Sam, who is a dog person, came over last night and really liked her. He said that once she warms up a bit he thinks we will have a really good dog. Truman, on the other hand, bit his forarm and drew blood. He didn't say anything about Truman, but that's really the point.
Sam said it will take Riley a couple of weeks to relax and realize this is her home and we love her.
I hope so, because I think she is sad.