The first time I held Blakely, it was such surreal moment. The past 9 months I had thought about the day that would come when I could finally hold her. But I felt such disconnect, and like I was having an out-of-body experience. Yes, the feeling of holding this little 7.3 pound baby was the highlight of my life, and I was bawling my eyes out because she was finally here, but it felt like the baby I was holding wasn't mine. That's the PPD talking.
But at the end of it, holding her meant that the pain and struggle of the past 9 months was worth every second because she was here. Blakely was alive and healthy, with the exception of her jaundice, and her lungs were unbelievable.
The hour I got of skin to skin contact was just straight intimacy and bonding, an hour of my life I'll never regret or forget.
Now, Blakely's 6 and a half months old, almost crawling and currently has one tooth. I look at her everyday and wonder where the time has gone and how she went from fitting in one arm with me supporting her head, to the rolly-poly she is today.
