Some women have a love-at-first-sight moment when their child is born. And for others it happens a little bit later. I don’t have any shame in saying that I was a part of the latter. It’s not a bad thing, not something to be embarrassed by nor does it mean something is wrong with you. It just is. I’m not entirely surprised by it either. A very strong piece of my personality is the need to jump into action and hyperfocus on the next step required to create peace from chaos. Caring for a freshly baked newborn & healing from major surgery is The Chaos. The Love was there, it always was. But it wasn’t until the dust settled that I was able to recognize it. What did happen immediately was The Change. Instantly I knew I was changed forever, my former self left to pass peacefully on the operating table. Never again would I be the most important, for the most important was taken from my insides and now existed as a separate being, with a separate heart beating it’s separate beats.
When I leave her with someone else so that I can care for my incredibly introverted soul, relief pours over me like a cool drink of water. Within minutes though I begin to miss her with my entire being. It’s an ache that takes up residence in my very marrow, my veins pulling like taffy as the car puts more distance between us.
I am fascinated by my love for her. It is animalistic and raw, it is divine and Godly. It is both self-destructive and my highest purpose. My own life is no longer the life I aim to preserve and yet there is a new drive for survival so that I may live for her. She is my favorite part of everything.
Her hair has so far become a bit of dark blonde, a bit of strawberry. The eyes are still out, my vote being green seeing as she’s taken after me in every other way. Recently strangers have begun complimenting her on her “blue eyes” (which still doesn’t sway my bid because I’ve heard the same comments despite firmly being in the green camp).