When we brought the Wee One home from the hospital, the first few days were, as promised, difficult. Recovering from surgery, tired, in pain, feeding the Wee One every few hours, crying, struggling with the latch, what felt like endless pumping…
Everything I read and heard said, “Sleep when the baby sleeps,” and I wanted to, I just never knew when that would happen. So I tried to be ready for it, and in the morning, when my husband made coffee, I wouldn’t have any. I didn’t want to be caffeinated and not able to sleep.
One morning, after a few days, I felt like I’d gotten a good amount of sleep the night before, several hours in a row. (“Good” with a newborn.) When Cohiba offered to make me coffee, I let him. It felt so luxurious. He brought it to where I was sitting with our daughter and I took that first sip, the best one of the day and it reminded me. Reminded me that I wasn’t always this tired or hormonal or messy, and that I would one day be myself again.
Epilogue: After that cup of coffee, and maybe another one another day, I realized that I was terrible at napping when she slept whether I’d had coffee or not, and it felt so good to drink that I started having it daily again.
I Didn't Just Wake Up This Morning With A Craving 
I couldn’t cut out coffee. I can, however, sleep: I can do that for England. Those constant attendance days quickly pass, though the worry never does. So glad you have a healthy, happy child.
“I can do that for England.” Heh. You prefer coffee over tea?