So I had a baby last week.
Her name is Clara Alice, and we love her. When the doctor held her up over the surgical sheet I saw her tiny face and I started crying "that's my baby" over and over. Later, when Dan left with the baby to see her measured and weighed, I listened to her cry in the next room and felt so happy that she was here. She was here: earlier than we originally thought, and not in the way we expected, but she was here, and safe, and perfect.
After what felt like hours of listening to the doctors talk about sports while putting me back together, Dan brought her back and put her next to my head. I couldn't hold her yet, so I kept turning my face so I could feel her skin next to mine. I couldn't touch her enough.
After four and a half days in the hospital, we brought her home. I wake up every morning to a face that seems to change every day, which thrills me and breaks my heart simultaneously. I think she's pretty damn wonderful.
Spouseman thinks so too. Despite a very grumpy face from Clara.
PS Clara is her real name. I'm far too lazy and forgetful to make up a blog name.