It’s been a little more than eight weeks since I’ve posted, but I swear I have a good excuse. Nate and I welcomed the sweetest little girl into the world on Friday, June 26. She is healthy, happy, has a head of vibrant red hair with beautiful blue eyes like her daddy and a feisty personality like me. She already smiles, makes funny faces, and loves cuddles. She has stolen our hearts, and I am head over heels for her. She’s the newest Second City Gal: Ellie.
Now, it has been quite a roller coaster, and let me tell you: the highs are high and the lows are very low. No one can really prepare you for how stressful, anxiety-filled, life-altering (should I continue) those first few weeks are. You are mentally and physically exhausted. I cried when I was happy. I cried when I was sad. I cried when I didn’t know if I was happy or sad. I felt guilty for wanting to go to work because that would be easier than the mystery of motherhood (25 hours of labor–yes, 25–would be easier). I felt fragile, like I could break at any moment, and I did…a lot…yet I had to keep it together for this tiny human that I’ve been excited about for the past 10 months. I felt scared that I wasn’t as joyful as I thought I could or should be.
One thing I did know was that I felt (and still feel) extremely grateful for everyone who texted, called, emailed, visited, sent a card, made food, brought/sent a card or gift, held her, and gave me the support I needed (still need). There’s nothing more special than sharing this experience with others.
People kept telling me it would get better. I stared at them blankly thinking, “When?” But it has. I’m definitely not out of the woods yet. I still feel vulnerable, but my confidence has grown. I’m starting to know Ellie more: what she needs and what she wants. It’s truly like getting to know a stranger who relies on you to survive. She is a good baby, and I feel blessed for that.
I miss her when I’m not with her…her smile, her smell. I love the way our pup George protects his sis and kisses her toes. (I call us the three musketeers now because we are always together.) I look forward to the many adventures we will have as a family now. A family…it feels unreal to say.
I daydream about what she’ll be like in five years, 10 years, 20 years. What she’ll look like. I hope she is a smart girl, a sweet girl. I hope she laughs a lot, and knows that she can come to me with anything and everything. I hope that she finds love in her life. I hope she has a good support system of friends. I hope she doesn’t grow up too fast. I hope she doesn’t stress too much. I hope she feels safe.
I hope she knows I will do anything for her: I just want her to be happy. And know I will love her always.
Love you, Ellie. You are everything.