Now little one, I am writing this as you are 3 hours into what would appear to be a cluster feed. As of 8.54pm on Saturday the 20th of October you were 7 days new. (Now because you’re so little and only want to sleep on your Poppa or me, it’s now Thursday, and you’re 12 days old but I’ve been tending to you rather than worrying about the poetry of this letter).
When I think back to what a week used to look like, it was quite drawn out. It revolved around whether it was grey or blue bin day, what was for tea on Tuesday and whether your Poppa and I fancied a duvet day on Sunday’s or a trip to the shops, (your Poppa never voted for the latter). We slotted bits and pieces in around work and family, all pretty mundane adult daily life stuff.
The last week hasn’t looked anything like that. Once you arrived every other priority has been thrown out of the window and together we are working out a new routine. I had a feeling on the Friday, two days after you were thought to have been here, that you were packing your suitcases ready to meet us. Saturday morning went at a much faster pace than usual and by lunchtime we knew you’d be with us very soon.
Holding you in my arms that night was the most overwhelming, fulfilling and enchanting feeling I’ve ever known. There were fireworks going off as you were born just to make it all the more surreal. The minute I saw your little face and felt your wriggly toes I immediately adored you. In the precious days since you arrived you have been so patient with me, we have learned so much together and although your Poppa and I were a jolly good team before, you’ve made us even stronger.
All I wish for you is to be cherished, feel love and warmth forever and always. You are so tiny but you’ve made the biggest impact. You are soundly sleeping on my chest as I type and I’d quite like this feeling to last forever. We will protect you and encourage you and although I’ll savour every moment of these newborn days and every one that follows, I cannot wait to watch you grow.