dear arlo; or, the best laid plans...
hello...
a secret: when you were born, my eyes were closed. the doctor promised one more push, and i closed my eyes and pushed and heard this "squiliiiishhh" noise, and everyone in the room cheered, and i opened my eyes and there you were, in all your lavender glory. i was in another place, seemingly yards away from your dad and our doula and the doctors and the nurses, even though they were right there at my hips and legs. they handed you to me, and i opened my mouth and said, "oh my god, you're really real...you exist." it really hadn't occurred to me, after 41 weeks of preparation and waiting, that you would actually ever be here, that you would one day exist.
and now you do, and you're in your crib across the room from me, sleeping and fidgeting. i am having my first good post-baby having cry (as quietly as i can). i still can't believe you're here. and maybe its because i haven't slept for more than four hours at a stretch in the last four days, but i feel like that's ok, i don't have to sleep. i can just watch you do it.
your birthday, and the day that proceeded it, seem so long ago, but i feel like i have to get the story down, as i remember it, even though i don't really remember it. i feel like i still remember the birth we planned, not the birth we had...
but i don't think i can do it now. we have been home from the hospital since yesterday at four, and my house still feels like someone else's. my whole body still feels like someone else's...
soon.
a secret: when you were born, my eyes were closed. the doctor promised one more push, and i closed my eyes and pushed and heard this "squiliiiishhh" noise, and everyone in the room cheered, and i opened my eyes and there you were, in all your lavender glory. i was in another place, seemingly yards away from your dad and our doula and the doctors and the nurses, even though they were right there at my hips and legs. they handed you to me, and i opened my mouth and said, "oh my god, you're really real...you exist." it really hadn't occurred to me, after 41 weeks of preparation and waiting, that you would actually ever be here, that you would one day exist.
and now you do, and you're in your crib across the room from me, sleeping and fidgeting. i am having my first good post-baby having cry (as quietly as i can). i still can't believe you're here. and maybe its because i haven't slept for more than four hours at a stretch in the last four days, but i feel like that's ok, i don't have to sleep. i can just watch you do it.
your birthday, and the day that proceeded it, seem so long ago, but i feel like i have to get the story down, as i remember it, even though i don't really remember it. i feel like i still remember the birth we planned, not the birth we had...
but i don't think i can do it now. we have been home from the hospital since yesterday at four, and my house still feels like someone else's. my whole body still feels like someone else's...
soon.
Comments
xo,
Sue
take good care.
x, j