It’s pretty hard to wrap my head around the fact that it’s been a week since I gave birth to my little girl (at the time of this post). It seems like only yesterday that I was in that hospital bed wondering what you would look like and if you would be healthy and strong. You have defied all odds since. An amazing eater, a peaceful sleeper, an all around incredible baby. I find myself just staring at you as you sleep, and thinking how I could have possibly gotten so lucky to have such a magical little being in my life that I get to call my own.
Every day I worry: I put you in warm clothes, wrap you in 2 blankets, and always make sure you are wearing a hat to maintain your body temperature so that you don’t expend all your calories trying to keep warm. I can’t sleep when you sleep because I always have to have an eye on you (whether it be myself or Daddy). You smile from gas, but we like to think it is genuine. You love it when we laugh, hold you close and play you music.
I’d like to join the masses and say this transition has been super difficult and that we are in “baby boot camp,” but honestly, I thought it would be worse. I am happy to stay up and be sleep deprived if it means I get to look at your face. You have brought your Dad and I even closer after last year’s struggles. I value family more. All in all, you are the best thing I have ever done.
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