Day Sixteen

Sitting in the quiet early morning light, having just finished feeding Gus. All wrapped up in a cute little bundle and drifting off to sleep when suddenly… HUGE arching stream of white shot out of tiny mouth and all over leg, chair and rug.

First projectile vomit.

4 thoughts on “Day Sixteen

  1. Isn’t it amazing how much can come from such a small vessel? I’ll never forget that hot summer night when I held Katherine up after a feed, faced her too my chest and she did it all over me. Like a fire hose. Thank goodness for washing machines! Can you imagine all the laundry our great great grandmothers did by hand?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *