If you've ever been a server at a restaurant, you've more than likely had server dreams. You know...the dreams where you can't ever catch up with all of your tables and every one is mad at you for not being able to pull it together. Well, now instead of server dreams, Matt and I both are having baby dreams. And not precious, sweet baby dreams, but rather "oh my gosh, have I suffocated my baby under the covers" dreams.
1. I've woken up frantically frisking myself thinking that I fell asleep while Noah was breastfeeding.
2. Matt has woken me up to ask me if he needs to go get "the breastfeeding stuff."
3. Two nights ago, I woke up to find Matt looking under the sheets for Noah. He asked me where he was; I replied, "his cradle," and he fell back to sleep. Minutes later, I again woke up to Matt patting down our comforter, again looking for the baby that he believed must have been buried somewhere in our covers.
4. I woke Matt up and asked him to take Noah from me...all the while, Noah was in his cradle.
I assume this anxiety will lessen when we become accustomed to this little guy, but right now, we worry so much.