The Baby Phase
My baby is two weeks old today. As of 12:22 pm she has been apart of this family for 14 whole days.
Which means 14 days ago I was pregnant. I was swollen, crabby, achey, and had the worst heartburn I had ever felt.
Right up until delivery I felt the burning in my throat. I knew she’d have hair because of it. But I didn’t know it would be so blonde.
I thought I prepared for everything leading up to her arrival. I mean, it was my fourth time. I bought the giant pads and nursing bras. I read social stories to my oldest son. My middle son and I went for walks together and I tried to soak up every second of my then youngest being my baby.
I prepared myself to be exhausted. And stretched thin. And to relax and not worry about every little thing.
I mentally pictured being a mom of four. I do that. I like to daydream about what life will be like.
I imagined my three boys holding her. And what her head would smell like. And her squeaks.
I forgot one thing though. How the second they get here you can’t remember life before them. And how perfect they are. These babies. There is nothing better.
As I sit here holding my last baby, my daughter, I don’t ever want to forget right now. I don’t want to blink or miss it. I don’t want it to end. This baby phase.
The exhausted, worn down, I need a shower, all I do is nurse, phase.
She is perfect. I can’t remember life before her. It’s amazing how that happens.
These little people take up so much room in our hearts. Immediately.
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