OMG, that's right. She did it. She slept all the way though the night. Like sleeping. All night. Asleep. Without waking up. From 10pm until 6:15am with the sleep. Holy Mother of Miracles it might be the best thing that has ever happened to me in my whole life.
In fact, IN FACT, she didn't even REALLY wake me up at 6:15am. The dog woke me up looking for his breakfast. I stumbled up and was downstairs feeding him when it hit me... "Why am I SOAKED right now? Why do my boobs feel like half-eaten watermelons?"
As the realization sunk in that my breasts were totally engorged because nobody had eaten from them in a great number of hours (that's EIGHT HOURS to be exact), it wasn't quite a moment of celebration like, "hooray-the-baby-is-still-asleep-and-this-is-the-best-thing-to-happen-ever" kind of thing, it was actually more like, "holy-fuck-the-baby-has-clearly-died-in-her-bed-and-I'm-afraid-to-go-and-look," kind of a panicky thing.
I managed to get myself back upstairs and hovered over her crib for a few minutes noting that she really was incredibly still and probably dead. So I did what any mom who thinks her baby might have died would do, I poked her. Pretty hard and like ten times. She was fully alive. And, might I add, not so pleased about the poking.
Relieved, I picked up my beautiful bundle and raced to the nursery so that she could help me out with the leaky watermelons. After that we went back to my room and snuggled together in the big bed for another two hours. Heaven.
I'm not sure what I have done to deserve such a wonderful gift, and I'm sure that it was mostly fluke, but WHOA, my girl is SO in my good books today.
Also, she's totally effing cute. Check it: