But I couldn't be happier. I have a husband, who loves me even in my weakest moments, he stands by me, even if I'm wrong, and he knows that my intentions are honest. My daughter, now 13 days old, is the most beautiful human being I have laid eyes on. Though I'm tired and emotionally vulnerable to crying, she is worth it. She is worth the late nights, midnight feedings, early mornings, sore and aching fun bags, daily naps, forgetting meals, diaper changes, headaches, body aches, she is my everything now. For the rest of my life.
I'm a mother and a wife now, it's crazy. It still hasn't hit me yet that I created life. A living, breathing human that relies on me to keep her safe, feed her, and bathe her. And I will do all of that in a heartbeat.
So now this blog is going to change.
Now I'm going to write about my new journey.
As a wife.
As a mother.
So where do I start...
With my husband.
Adam is so great. Obviously, from what I have written about him in the past. He makes me laugh and cry from being hilarious and wonderful. We have lived in a tiny apartment downtown Sonora, where homeless people would ask to sleep on our doorstep. A one bedroom, one bathroom studio apartment. With our giant 100 lb dog who would spend most of his days on our 4x4 porch. Poor guy.
Then it happened. Three short months later after finding out I was pregnant and that there was no way we could fit our new expecting life into this tiny apartment we found an opportunity to move up in the world. We moved to a large, 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom house with our friend for a year lease. It was so great at first, a nice neighborhood, or so it seemed, a garage, a full sized kitchen with extra counter space and to top it off I had my buddy with me to brave the responsibility of adulthood. (I.e. Paying bills, cleaning up after ourselves, and just plain old being responsible.)
Then it all went south. It was a whirlwind of one thing after another. Crazy neighbors, stupid rental agency giving mixed signals, $700 propane bill, septic system in catastrophic failure, and irresponsible, unreliable roommates. We were told to move out immediately. Me at 9months pregnant. We moved. And now we're here. In Twain Harte. With a baby.
I can't complain. I love waking up with Adams wolverine hair and pokey un-shaved face and overgrown eyebrows. He smells. He really does. But I love it. He's my family. And Nalaya. She's such a doll. With wandering eyes, soft little lips, and a dimples like her mommy.
Nothing anyone can tell you, can prepare you for motherhood. Nobody tells you that, after a vaginal birth, your vagina feels like a near deflated party balloon. That you'll walk like you are saddle sore. Nobody tells you that stool softener is the way to go when you poop for the first time when you get home from the hospital. You'll be spat up on, pooped on, peed on, you might pee or poop your pants yourself, or forget a meal, or have chunks of your nipple fall off. (This is a real thing ladies, get help when you need it, call a lactation consultant!)
Most of all, in no way possible, can you be remotely prepared for childbirth. I've never even broken a bone. I wasn't ready for that kind of pain. At one point, I vaguely remember trying to close my legs and suck her back inside of me, only to realize there was only one way outta this. And then she was there. A gooey, pink body laid on my chest whimpering and looking at this new world she had entered. I cried more than she did. Both out of remaining pain from the doctor stitching me up, and from seeing her for the first time. I remember crying and hearing the doctor instructing Adam to cut the cord. I'm proud of him for watching the whole thing without passing out.
But his is my life now.
I wouldn't change a thing.
I'm a wife.
And a mother.