Wow. I don’t even know where to start. The past three weeks have been…*insertall-inclusivedescriptivewordhere*.  Such a huge beginning with so many levels, stretching in so many directions. It’s hard to wrap it all up into words.

I could write about Heidi’s birth story…the night she was born, which was one of the most surreal and bizarre nights of my life. I could write about the anxiety I felt while in labor, the fear I felt when it was time to push. I could write about what I felt the moment she slipped into the world, the moment I looked into her big eyes for the first time, which completely took my breath away. I could write about how the rest of that long night, as she and I sat alone in my hospital room, how I couldn’t stop crying every time I looked at her face and felt her fragile weight in my arms. I could literally feel my heart busting open over this little girl. Definitely one of the highlights of the past three weeks. I couldn’t bare to let her lay alone in her plastic crib sitting right by me, and I constantly tucked her in close to me and listened to her breathing for hours. I must have been awake for three days straight because I didn’t want her out of my sight.

I could write about how incredibly overwhelming the first week was as we brought her home, with her days and nights mixed up, with our early morning runs to Starbucks, with my DAILY fits of tears (usually right around 9pm on the dot). I could write about how mentally tough it was (and still is) to breastfeed; how this baby is dependent solely on ME, day and night, hour after hour. I could write about how I felt guilty for the moments I almost resented her for taking up so much of my time and energy, as if I didn’t know that’s exactly what would happen. I could write about how every time she cried, I would start to cry from exhaustion and frustration.

I could write about the stress I feel over her feeding and sleeping schedule: is she eating enough? Sleeping enough? Sleeping too much? Is she gaining weight? Why is she screaming every time I changed her? Am I hurting her? When I go in to get her out of bed, will she still be breathing?

I could write about the thrill I felt when I finally felt a tad more comfortable (and so thankful) letting her sleep a stretch of five hours each night, as opposed to waking her every three hours for a feeding like the nurses told me to do (and which every mom and dad has scoffed at!). I could write about the relief I felt just a few days ago when I fell into a rhythm of nursing that was getting more comfortable, and even enjoyable, for Heidi and me. I could write about the confidence that comes with being able to take her out…to grandma and grandpa’s, to the store, to Target, to the doctor…and bring her home happy and in one piece.

I could write about how, in the first week, I couldn’t WAIT for her to get bigger so things would be easier….and how just today, I teared up at how much bigger she already is and how fast it happened. I was struck by a tinge of sadness already, realizing she will not always cry and fuss just to be cuddled in the crook of my neck or nestled up close to my chest just to hear my heartbeat so she can sleep.

I could seriously write a book on each of these topics. I am full to the brim of STUFF that this girl has done to me. And I will probably blog about a lot of it later. But right now, I am watching her lay sprawled out on a blanket on the floor, her sweet cheeks flushed pink, her arms stretched out, her rattle and pacifier laying close by, tucked under her blanket. It’s taking self-control not to scoop her up (therein WAKING her up) and just hold her close. I can’t believe she went from being that little peanut ultrasound to being a nine-pound, four ounce baby girl, getting bigger by the day. I can’t believe I went from being so unsure I could do this mom thing that first week to suddenly being unsure I really wanted her to grow up.

I can’t believe she is here.

“I see you watching me from the edge of your seat.
I know quite possibly you will copy what you see.
And what are you learning from me, as you look in my life?
What do your searching eyes see in mine?
You make me want to be lovely…
You make me want to be someone I want you to see.
Someone I want you to be.
Lovely.”
-betsy walker