One Week
One week ago today (as of 8 minutes ago, in fact), my life was forever changed in the best way possible. One week ago today, the amazing and beautiful little Ceili Elizabeth Killian slid effortlessly into my life, and when I took her in my arms that first time, the world became a much more wonderful place.
There she was, all 5 lbs 2 oz of her, lying on my stomach, eyes wide, shivering and covered in slimy goop, and I couldn't believe my eyes. This tiny little being suddenly became the biggest love of my life. The most important thing I ever did, and it was almost too easy.
At some point which may have been two minutes after her birth or ten minutes after her birth, I began to cry. It hit me all of a sudden that, throughout this pregnancy, I had been afraid to really let myself believe that she was going to make it. I cried because I saw my dreams realized before my very eyes, and because I had been so afraid that we'd never have our baby. I cried for the child I lost, and I cried because I felt guilty for thinking about that one when this beautiful angel was lying inches from my face. I looked up at Asher, wanting so much to tell him how afraid I had been and how relieved and happy I was, but all I could say was something along the lines of, "I wanted this so much."
One week later, I find myself crying once again, just blown away at the intensity of my feelings. I love her in a way that I never knew I could, and, if it's possible, I love Asher more than before for having given her to me. I am at once both exhausted and invigorated. I feel like my life has somehow been validated, like I am now serving a much greater and more meaningful purpose. When I look at Ceili's sleeping face, my heart feels so full it could burst.
In fact, I had to take a break just now for about 10 minutes to cry my eyes out. Again, I tried to tell Asher what I was feeling, and all that came out was, "I wanted her so much." It's funny how I can't seem to say anything more than that.
I love to listen to her little baby snores while she sleeps. Her little gurgles and whimpers when she's half-awake and not sure if she wants to go back to sleep or not make me giggle. Her cries are like a trigger that sets off some piece of me I never knew existed: this intensely maternal spot that doesn't get annoyed at the noise or frustrated when I can't soothe her, but that smiles knowing that she's crying for ME, that warms at the sound of her healthy little lungs, and that goes into overdrive and magically speeds up every thing I do so that I can get to her as fast as is humanly possible. Sure, I may be low on sleep, and it may be difficult sometimes to rouse myself after only a short nap to feed her (an incredibly painful task between my severely aching back and my chapped, bruised nipples), but I am so fulfilled when I see her sad, hungry little face relax into this satisfied, peaceful look, I wouldn't trade those moments for anything. Everything I do now centers around her, and I love it.
She's healthy. She's perfect. She's tiny (4 lbs 8 oz at the pediatrician's this morning) and beautiful and looks just like her daddy. I have never been so much in love, and I never want her to grow up and stop needing me this much.
There is not a single thing lacking from my life now. I am truly and COMPLETELY happy.
There she was, all 5 lbs 2 oz of her, lying on my stomach, eyes wide, shivering and covered in slimy goop, and I couldn't believe my eyes. This tiny little being suddenly became the biggest love of my life. The most important thing I ever did, and it was almost too easy.
At some point which may have been two minutes after her birth or ten minutes after her birth, I began to cry. It hit me all of a sudden that, throughout this pregnancy, I had been afraid to really let myself believe that she was going to make it. I cried because I saw my dreams realized before my very eyes, and because I had been so afraid that we'd never have our baby. I cried for the child I lost, and I cried because I felt guilty for thinking about that one when this beautiful angel was lying inches from my face. I looked up at Asher, wanting so much to tell him how afraid I had been and how relieved and happy I was, but all I could say was something along the lines of, "I wanted this so much."
One week later, I find myself crying once again, just blown away at the intensity of my feelings. I love her in a way that I never knew I could, and, if it's possible, I love Asher more than before for having given her to me. I am at once both exhausted and invigorated. I feel like my life has somehow been validated, like I am now serving a much greater and more meaningful purpose. When I look at Ceili's sleeping face, my heart feels so full it could burst.
In fact, I had to take a break just now for about 10 minutes to cry my eyes out. Again, I tried to tell Asher what I was feeling, and all that came out was, "I wanted her so much." It's funny how I can't seem to say anything more than that.
I love to listen to her little baby snores while she sleeps. Her little gurgles and whimpers when she's half-awake and not sure if she wants to go back to sleep or not make me giggle. Her cries are like a trigger that sets off some piece of me I never knew existed: this intensely maternal spot that doesn't get annoyed at the noise or frustrated when I can't soothe her, but that smiles knowing that she's crying for ME, that warms at the sound of her healthy little lungs, and that goes into overdrive and magically speeds up every thing I do so that I can get to her as fast as is humanly possible. Sure, I may be low on sleep, and it may be difficult sometimes to rouse myself after only a short nap to feed her (an incredibly painful task between my severely aching back and my chapped, bruised nipples), but I am so fulfilled when I see her sad, hungry little face relax into this satisfied, peaceful look, I wouldn't trade those moments for anything. Everything I do now centers around her, and I love it.
She's healthy. She's perfect. She's tiny (4 lbs 8 oz at the pediatrician's this morning) and beautiful and looks just like her daddy. I have never been so much in love, and I never want her to grow up and stop needing me this much.
There is not a single thing lacking from my life now. I am truly and COMPLETELY happy.
posted by whitkay | 9:17 PM
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