Another day, another deep breath. It's two months today since our little tiny Baby Beans was delivered in St Thomas's Hospital. Every day can be different, but today it feels like that was a long time ago. It feels like the version of Elly Beans who was around then wasn't really me, but more of a shadow self, and it feels increasingly like I'm back in my own skin.
Today, so far, feels a good day. I woke early, but after a decent night's sleep. I've been a bit restless the last few nights. It's been so warm in the flat we've had to have the windows open, every noise outside disturbs me, and the sun tickles through our window blinds from dawn. But last night an eye mask and some earplugs sourced by the Boy did the trick.
We started the day off well - we recently had a rent rebate (we live in a shared ownership flat, so we own a percentage of the flat and we pay rent on the other part) as we paid too much rent last year. We wondered (briefly!) about saving the money but have decided instead to have a holiday in Sardinia in September, after my work annual conference and the Boy has run the Great North Run.
I think we'll be ready for another rest then, and as I've said before in these pages having things to look forward to at the moment and quality time together planned helps us both stay sane and keep going forwards. It breaks life into smaller manageable chunks, which lets us relax a bit - a big help as we try to move a bit further along the road. We're getting there, I can feel that and I know that. It seems heart and head have connected once again, and - while we'll never forget our first tiny baby - that can only be good news.