On Friday, You Were 8 Weeks Old.

These last weeks have been quite the journey. And finally in the last few days, I’ve found myself whispering soft things in your ear, telling you how much I love you and cherish you. Finally I feel like we are connecting, like I have gotten my shattered brain back together enough to realize the amazing little gem that you are.

Because it’s true – you shattered me, little girl. I fell apart that day you were born, and it’s taken me weeks and weeks, but I think we got all the pieces back together. I cried and and cried, and you cried and cried. Dad even cried too, but only because he couldn’t bear to see us crying. I don’t know what happened to me, those first weeks. It’s fuzzy, it was survival and I was losing. I’m not good with change, and worse with hormones. You were so brand new, so life altering in every way. I spoke of regret and wished I could put you back inside. I wanted to run away. I was haunted by terrible visions that would flash before my eyes, disappearing as fast as they’d come alive. I was not okay. Not in any way.

One day you’ll probably throw this back in my face and tell me how much you hate me and that I never loved you. (I was a teenager, once. I know.) But right now you are nothing but squishy and chirpy, and all I can do is hold you close and tell you that I am so very glad you are here. That I love you so much it makes my heart hurt, and that I’d do anything just to see you smile. Thank you, little girl. Thank you for shattering my world. Because it took some time for me to realize, but it is so much better with you in it.


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