I still have dreams about the NICU. Two years out and I find that to be one of the most surprising remnants of Rowan’s birthday. Most of my dreams are stress dreams anyhow, though they tend towards scary wizards and plots Steven Moffat couldn’t come up with in his own wildest dreams.
I’ve spent a considerable amount of time thinking about all the ways I was disappointed in both of my experiences giving birth. I had been forming a post about it, yet again. Then I woke up and realized today is my best friend’s daughter’s fourth birthday, and reflected on that instead.