by Laura Falin posted in Pregnancy

It's funny how things change as you have more kids.
I remember with my first son, I stayed two nights at the hospital. I didn't love it, mostly because I had to share a room with someone who had a big ol' party until 11 p.m., with people coming and going and only a thin curtain to keep out the noise as my baby and I desperately tried to sleep. It was awful.

But still, when it was time to go home, my husband and I looked at each other with a mild panic in our eyes. The nurse read the discharge instructions, and the entire time, I was yelling in my head, "Wait...you're just going to LET US GO""" Just like that" Who comes with us to help us figure out how to be parents" What if he cries and we don't know what to do" What if something happens" What if we break him""" Terribly irresponsible of the nurses, really. What were they thinking" By the time I had my third baby, I loved the hospital for entirely different reasons. He and I spent a few days there, recovering and wandering the halls. Nice little old ladies who volunteered brought me cookies at 4 o'clock each day and knit him an adorable hat. Giant picture windows looked out on autumn leaves turning colors in the Colorado mountains. And when I had his sister -- my first c-section -- it was like a spa vacation to sit in the hospital and have someone else do all the running around. It helped to be away from home because I wasn't...