Parental Paranioa

At what point do I get to stop worrying if my daughter is still breathing? Here I am at 10:30 at night, which feels like 2am, doing homework (and blogging) and I stop every few minutes to make sure Trinity is still breathing. She is a swaddled up and comfortable in her chair. Autumn is asleep for just over another half an hour, when I will wake her up for the late-evening feeding. I am trying to gain some intellectual momentum, but I keep stopping to see if my daughter is still alive. Is this normal? At what point can I stop worrying that she has ceased breathing? Will I ever relax as a parent? Should I? I guess I am more of a worrier than I like to let on. The irony is that I can sleep right through her active sleeping, which involves murmurs and a little fussing. I hear this is a gift that many men have. Women don't have it. I guess that's for the best, since someone should wake when the baby cries. In the mean time I am sitting here guzzling coffee in an effort to stay awake, all the while failing to put a really good effort into my studies because I keep looking over at my daughter. I guess you could say that my priorities are right. I like that.

I have not taken many pictures in the last couple of days, I think the adrenaline is wearing off and we are getting tired. I don't know how Autumn is doing it, but she is holding up much better than I. Everyone should be as lucky in love as I am.

By the way, Lindy says her twins are the cutest babies. I will agree that they might be the cutest BOY babies. We have the girl side covered:


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