11 weeks of motherhood down and my baby is still alive, healthy, and thriving. Whoda thunk it? =P
I gotta say, the first 11 weeks were everything I thought they would be and nothing at all like I expected all at the same time. It’s one thing to KNOW that your sleep schedule will change, quite another to run on fumes and experience a level of sleep deprivation you never knew before. It’s one thing to KNOW that you will have this new little human in your life that you will love more than anything else in the whole world, quite another to actually feel your capacity to love expand beyond what you ever thought possible, and do it over and over again every day. It’s one thing to know that your family is getting bigger, quite another to have this brand new little person fit right in as if they were there all along while they are changing your whole life.
Being a parent is the most surreal thing I have ever experienced. I keep waiting for it to sink it and be normal that I have a kid now. Instead, every day I wake up and wonder how I got so lucky to have her. I reflect in total disbelief on how I got to where I am, with this tiny little person that is MINE. I look at her still shocked at how much she looks like me, how much of my Grandma Ray I see in her, how this expression or that mannerism look just like my husband. Is it normal to still not believe that you are a parent after this long?
I’m sure I sound like such a goober, waxing all philosophical and sentimental about having a child… something that billions of people have already experienced before me. What can I say? It’s different when it’s your own. Isn’t that what everyone says? =)