I used to get so antsy for the bloggers I follow to post their birth stories, and I didn't understand why it took them so long - weeks, sometimes! It's just writing a blog, how hard can it be?! Answer: hard. Hard to take the time away from your precious newborn, knowing you might miss a moment that could never be recreated. Hard to not use any time they're sleeping to sleep yourself, or eat, or maybe even take a shower. I posted my delayed 40 week update yesterday, most of which had been drafted last week. It took me over an hour! So, I promise I'll post my birth story soon. Promise.
In the meantime, London is one week old today. We've had her for seven days, and yet last night I asked Ben if he still felt like she was someone else's that we were just borrowing. Sometimes I can't remember what it was like before she was here, and others I can't believe she's ours.
The early mornings are my favorite time with her - she's alert, the sun is gently coming into her room, Ben & Lucy are still asleep and it's a special time just the two of us. Sometimes I can't bear to put her back in her crib so I let her sleep with her little naked body on my bare chest, skin to skin. This morning, realizing she was already a week old and would never be this tiny again, I cried. Great big alligator tears fell on my sweet baby's head and all I could say was "thank you" to The One who gave us this precious gift.
And then she pooped.