I have a daughter.
I have a daughter, and she is the greatest thing since sliced bread. Nay, she's better than sliced bread. Better than beer bread or cinnamon Christmas bread right out of the oven, warm and gooey, and with a pat of butter. She's better than all that and more.
She makes me laugh every day, and she brings us so much joy. Even when she's fighting an afternoon nap at 3 and 1/2 months old right now, she brings me joy. She's currently in her swing trying to fight her nap as her oceanic friends sway back and forth on the screen in front of her. She just yawned so big, and even that brings me joy.
I'm having a really really tough time lately thinking about her starting day care in 10 days. I have cried so many tears. Someone please tell me how I'm supposed to get through hours in the day without this little lovebug nearby. She's been nearby since October 1st, but even before that. I carried her around from the start, nourishing her and rocking her and dancing with her, long before she ever gazed into my eyes. And after we gazed into each other's eyes, we've been together all day, every day since then. How am I supposed to spend 9 hours away from her? Missing her every second?
Who will give her the biggest smile every time she wakes from a nap? Who will sing silly songs with her and dance around to the hokey pokey when she gets restless from playing on the floor. Who will pick up multiple books throughout the day, re-reading them over and over again with so much joy to help her develop and to have the joy of her sitting all cuddled up in the middle of my lap?
I can't believe the incredible ways this little girl has already changed me, shaped me into this sobbing, blubbering mess of a woman. But she has.
Six days after she was born, I was having having chest tightness - like someone had set a dumbbell down on my chest. I was also having very bad swelling in my ankles and feet. Swelling pain that I hadn't experienced at all in the previous 10 months. I went to the ER that night, at 11pm, as Nathan and her went back home (all of about 3 minutes away). I was scared. I was alone. It was the worst.
Whenever we have a tough day or night be it lack of sleep or something else, we'll sometimes say "No one is at the emergency room" because we're easily reminded about that night. How we were all scared. How we were all alone. It was the worst.
She's asleep now. In her swing with her right arm bent up behind her right ear.
Gosh, I'm going to miss her like mad when maternity leave ends and day care begins.