Seven years ago on this day I pushed a 7 pound 8 ounce baby out of my body. She was the first good looking newborn that’s ever graced this planet.
The first of three.
Before we left the hospital with our little treasure the nurses warned me that I might feel a little sad in a few days. I, however, was on cloud nine. I whispered to Pat back in our room, “how could anyone feel sad with such a blessed beautiful new life in their home!?!!?”
Three days later I was crying for no reason. How had this become my life??? My hormones and my weight and my boobs and our finances and. that. BABY!
The adjustment wasn’t easy. The understanding that I now lived on baby time was a hard for me to grasp. I was anxious and uncomfortable and moody.
And then she smiled. My world melted at the sight of this little girl.
And then she ate stuff.
And she walked.
And she laughed.
And she screamed.
MY GOD COULD SHE SCREAM!
She was stubborn and strong-willed and sensitive and shy.
She was snuggly, she was a mama’s girl, and she loved her white blanket.
Now she’s seven. And I’m still crying. She’s barely changed one bit.
How has this become my life???
I’d sooner die than go back to life before Maile. Happy birthday baby girl!