Sunday one day after one month. These moments are hard to find and I should be doing more with them—laundry, dishes, find my clothes. One thing I know to be true: these things will still need to be done. They will not go away.
I bought a camera yesterday and have been wasting time with it since. Pictures of the baby girl. She’s eating her fingers like they’re just another meal.
She’s sleeping now. I got the black skirt I bought to wear to my father’s funeral out of the cellar and fixed the seam that had come undone at the slit. I am going to a wake this afternoon, for my father’s neighbor. At one month after birth I am about the same size as I was at almost two months pregnant. At least I hope I am, I haven’t tried the skirt on. I haven’t got anything else to wear so it must be true.
I should go now and get ready. Abigail is getting into more of a routine; I hope to be able to write more often.