Early last Saturday morning after having been in the hospital since Thursday evening for a surprise induction at nearly a week overdue, I had my (10-pound, 4-ounce!!) daughter Audrey. It was all somehow less surreal than I expected--a rerun of the Giants game was on on the TV, the doctor was such a cheerleader I kept almost bursting out laughing when I was pushing, and then I just thought the doctor was being encouraging and I hadn't believed her when she said we were almost there, and then, suddenly, Audrey came into the world! And then all of a sudden the whole world shifted and there were three of us, and she was here, and completely engrossing and demanding and enthralling. The doctor was telling me she was HUGE, and I was crying and excited, and Audrey was squalling, and J was watching and smiling.
She was examined by the NICU team; I was given stitches; I asked J to take a picture of her face since she was being worked on and I was trapped in bed; she was given to J to hold; she was given back to me and I got to hold her for the first time; my parents and brother, who'd been waiting at the hospital, came in to see her. Then she was whisked away to the nursery as I was taken to the postpartum unit (it all felt much too soon; the hospital is a well-oiled machine) and J texted me pictures of her as I waited for her to come back, missing both of them. Then she was back and everything was one delirious, sleepless blur and then a parade of visitors started trickling in--everyone thrilled beyond thrilled to meet her.
She also was born with these natural highlights in her hair--all the doctors and nurses and CNAs and everyone who saw her commented on her weight and her hair. Which I loved because of course I feel like my baby is completely remarkable.
She's spent her first ten days in the world sleeping and eating and blinking around trying to focus on all the new and probably confusing things around her, and being held and photographed and cooed over by all the many many people who adore her.
And I think at ten days old she feels so much different and older already. I feel simultaneously frantic about the end of these sweet newborn days and excited about all the things she'll learn to do--like recognize us, or understand and respond when someone snuggles with her or smiles at her. (My heart!)
Also, when she's sleeping or not actively cuddled in my arms I moon over pictures of her and think of new places (Facebook, Instagram, etc.!) I can spam everyone with them.
We love you, baby girl! Welcome, welcome, welcome. We're so beyond overjoyed you're here to be a part of our lives.