It is a drizzley, gray Monday.  I’m tired because it’s “that time” and I always get tired during “that time.”  This is the first “that time” since before I found out I was pregnant with Ella.  It’s a strange sort of feeling.  It means I’m finally getting back to the old me.  But it also means she is growing up, and she won’t need me, physically, for much longer.  There is something so very satisfying about the fact that when your baby is born, you can be her entire world.  You can feed her, clothe her, and keep her warm and loved.  She needs nothing more than you.  Just the mere scent of a baby’s mother can comfort her.  So it is in this growing up that I realize I’m just a little less necessary in her life, and getting back to the old me is really not all that important afterall.  Don’t grow so fast, little one…