I couldn’t bring myself out the bubble until now. Just stopping and breathing has been the only way to grab rare and singular slower moments amongst the Christmas chaos that quickly turned to new term chaos. Logging in felt like it would only accelerate time. And then I didn’t know what to say. Until just now when I found a little note I’d written in my phone on that first night. We’re up in bed, just me and her, ready to attempt some sleep. I’ve got everything I think I’ll need assembled around me; nappies, muslins, wipes, breast pads, pints of fluids, blankets, night light…
And just like that she’s next to me.
A part of me she was and apart from me now.
This won’t last. This is the only day that you were born. I’ve been broken and completed today and I’m tired and full and empty from it. I’ll close my eyes soon and give in to exhaustion and then it won’t be the day you were born. Slowly please. I’m not ready for it to not be this day ever again. Freeze everything for life to exist forever as these next hours will.
But of course nothing froze. I slept and fed and slept and fed and slept and then woke up… Here we were that morning. I think she’s 22 hours old…
Orlee Bea born 10:45am, 15th December 2016, 8lb 2oz.
