Renewed
A week's worth of anxiety bubbled to the surface and once it spilled over there was no stopping it. I sobbed in my husband's arms as he insisted that I'm doing a great job, I'm loved and admired by my family, he told me over and over how much he loves and appreciates me. Bless him for his kindness to me. Still, all I could do was cry. The silliest part is always the straw that breaks the camel's back. I had purchased some nursing tops to wear at night; two lovely little cotton v-necked tanks. I washed them and had worn one the previous night. The other was waiting in my drawer, or so I thought. I usually sleep in scoop necked shirts; I am small chested, and no matter how well tucked I think my shirt is under my breast, it always, always creeps its way up and into my baby's mouth, frustrating her, forcing me to readjust, and never giving a peaceful nursing session a chance. My nighttime feedings were so much more pleasant the night before and I was looking fo