☼ fifty one ☼

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"Don't know how long it's gonna take to feel okay"

Harry

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Harry

It's been three weeks since we brought Bodhi home. And I'd like to say it's been three weeks of pure bliss.

But parenthood isn't as straight forwards as that.

Milo is completely obsessed with Bodhi, wanting to be around him every second of the day. He's also started to refuse sleeping in his own bed, because he wants to be closer to Bodhi. Amelie and I are both incredibly sleep deprived with a wriggly toddler in bed and a needy baby who cries every time we put him down.

To top it all off, every time Bodhi cries, Milo wakes up, wanting to help out, wanting to cuddle him and feed him.

Bodhi came off of his oxygen last week, and he's been off of the feeding tube for three days. Milo's favourite thing to do is feed him his bottle now.

Which at first, was very sweet. They already have such a lovely bond together. But then Milo tried to ram the bottle down Bodhi's throat, nearly choking him in the process. It took him a few minutes to get his breath back, which of course Amelie was really to phone nine-nine-nine at that point.

Milo's love for Bodhi has become a slight hinderance.

He wants to be the one to help, and it's exhausting to deal with the meltdowns when we don't let him feed Bodhi, or when we don't let Bodhi sleep in with him.

Amelie's exhausted.

Mentally, she's been a lot better than when we first brought Bodhi home. She finally gave in and allowed me to book her an appointment with a therapist. I managed to get an appointment two days later.

She didn't go.

She had a panic attack before leaving the house, and she was in too much of a state to go after that. But she was determined to try again. She picked herself up and a few days later, I was driving her to her first appointment with her therapist.

I sat in the waiting room for a whole hour with Bodhi strapped to my chest and Milo running around like a madman, throwing all the magazines and decorative cushions within reach. In the end, I gave in, putting paw patrol on my phone and handing it to him.

I didn't want to be that parent. But it was physically impossible to entertain Milo with only a small backpack full of toys and a newborn baby cuddled into me.

She had come out of the room with red puffy eyes, not much different to when she went in. Though when she came out, she had a slight smile on her face and I knew this was the start of her healing process.

She carried herself a lot better after three sessions, like the weight on her shoulders wasn't quite so heavy. Of course the load was still weighty, but she was learning how to gain the strength to hold it all up.

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