After a month of taking off from work to take care of me and the baby, my husband goes back to work today. We are back to the normal weekdays, but this time, with a newborn for me to attend to.

Relationship-wise (as husband and wife), we were struggling a little bit of it. We had not find time for each other like before...you know, just the two of us. This scenario was expected after having our baby. I remember the nights we were in the hospital and the few nights after we went home where I slept on the chair because it was hard for me to get up with an incision if I lay on bed. I felt a physical separation from my other half. I was missing his arms around me, the warmth of his skin against mine, and most of all, the security I feel when he's there lying beside me on bed.

Things had been overwhelming since our precious girl came. Ninety-nine percent of our focus was on her: feeding, burping, changing diapers, putting her to sleep, and spending time playing with her while she's awake. I had to deal with emotional and physical stress for days because of having difficulty nursing her and my incision from the C-section. Watching me with my struggles also affects my husband. Why not? He cares about my feelings. He was there to support me with the postpartum state I've been through. He did the best he could for his daughter and his wife.

For a month of going through the changes in our life together from the day the baby came was a little bit tough. It's a new thing for us as husband and wife. We have not dealt anything like it before. We don't know how to perfectly take care of a baby aside from trusting our instincts, tips from family and friends, and how-to-raise-a-baby information we get from outside resources like Google, pediatrician, etc..

I can say that during the first four weeks, I only did not feel physical separation from my husband, but emotionally as well. Inside me was a drought season for him and other aspects of my life, and I ignored what I felt. I was too drain to attend and scrutinize what's inside my heart and my soul. I had other things to deal with which involved mostly the baby and my physical healing. However, when you disregard what's deep within you consumes the relationship -- in a negative way. I was worn out inside. So is my husband. After all he is only human. Nonetheless, he still tried his best to do his responsibilities and showed me his care and concern.

Yesterday afternoon while Evie was taking a nap in the living room, I went in our bedroom and read a grammar book. A few minutes after, my husband popped and settled beside me. From there, we just found ourselves talking and sharing about our feelings. I'm a very emotional wife. When I express to my husband what's in my heart, it is mostly accompanied with tears. He must have gotten used to it. Another thing about me is that, pouring out my heart is a bit difficult for me to do. For almost all of my life, I have mastered the art of burying my emotions to myself. When you become skillful in one thing, people can't just easily unclothe you from what you are good at. The good thing is, my husband is so patient to squeeze out the crystals of my emotions. To him, my feelings are precious gems. Knowing this truth, my heart has learned to open up (and until now, it is still learning).

Making ourselves comfortable on bed, I disclosed the emotional detachment I felt towards him, my exhaustion, and some thoughts regarding the things I observed between us. He shared his sentiments at the same time. We talked. We listened. There were tears. Smiles. Giggles. Even some good laughs.

We came into a good understanding. We agreed to fix the hitches while they are still small. We have not come up concrete solutions on how to do the things that need attention. We cannot make all things work immediately with the new, big changes and responsibilities. However, cracking out our feelings and thoughts was a promising step towards a harmonious, rekindled fire of passion for our marriage. We will surely get there.

Thursday morning...the 5th day that I had been waking up so early than normal. It's mainly because of the physical discomfort I feel specially on my lower back because of the baby's weight. (Actually, I feel a little bit guilty everytime I wake up so early because my husband wakes and gets up too when he senses that I am not beside him.)

As expected, he was awake too and was spending time browsing online. He noticed that I went to the pantry, got and opened the box of Oreo cookies. I had been eating Oreos for 3 mornings straight then. I was not a fan of that cookie before. In fact, it's been in the pantry for few months, unopened. But lately, I just found myself gorging 5 or more pieces.

He approached and told me that I should not eat Oreos. "It's not healthy," if I remember it right on how he said it. He asked if I wanted anything for breakfast, and my answer was "NO." I just wanted to eat Oreos. I was not that hungry, but I wanted to munch the cookies. I was upset and threw myself on the couch, my back against his face. So he decided to turn around so he could see me face to face. He knew that I was pretty upset, but wanted to know more details. I covered my face with a pillow and started to cry. The negative thought just filled my mind. I felt that I am not taking care enough of our baby because I was not eating healthy food. I got that idea when he said that "it's not healthy." Later he was able to convince me to talk, and I told him about what I felt and thought of myself.

My husband calmed me down and assured me that eating Oreos does not make me a bad mother. He just wanted to make a good breakfast for me, and that is one of his ways to show that he cares about me. Besides, he wanted us to share breakfast together. It's been a little while since we ate breakfast together, and he missed it. Our meal schedule had been chaotic lately due to the changes being affected by my pregnancy where most of the time than usual, we see ourselves eating separately and eating different food.

It was a tearful morning for both of us. But at the end of it, we found ourselves understanding each other's feelings and concerns, and loving each other more.

With regards to the Oreo "habit," I think it became a "comfort food" for me. It's kind of like a psychological reward from the frustration I felt everytime my body complained that I had to wake up and jump out from bed too early.

Been 2 mornings now since that incident that I did not grab the box of Oreo. And yes, I still wake up so early.