Okay, so I promise you this website is NOT becoming a glorified camera-phone-moblog thing, but...
Jason was going through his photos last night and found this one:
This is the very first time I held Noah. The very first time we actually looked at each other in the eyes and said, "Hello, strange, puffy person. You are stuck with me now, bwa ha ha."
Okay, what I actually said was: "Oh my God. Hi. Oh my God. I'm your mom. Hi." And then I cried.
And Noah just kind of squawked and looked vaguely alarmed.
I was wrecked. Tired. Shellshocked. Terrified out of my flipping mind, and I don't think my hair and skin have ever looked worse. I hadn't seen Noah since the rushed and baffling first attempt at breastfeeding in the recovery room and had been sitting in my room by myself for an hour while Noah was bathed and checked over and for some reason I completely blamed our separation on the c-section and by the time Jason returned I'd worked myself into full-on hysterics because I hadn't bonded with my child yet and therefore I was totally doomed forever because the baby was NOT GOING TO LIKE ME.
Then the nurse wheeled him in and Jason placed him in my arms. And I decided that maybe this was actually turning out to be an okay day after all.
I took these this morning. Yep, another pretty okay day all around.