one week old on july 22. my daughter is a serious woman. she certainly takes after her father in looks and demeanor. we’re curious to see what she’s gotten from me (besides me feet).
we cannot get enough of her. we stare at her for really long moments still taking in the fact that we are parents and she is ours! i still can’t get over the fact that “he’s a girl!” (i exclaimed this not fifteen minutes after she was born) since we were both convinced we were having a boy. she coos and she sleeps and with each new day she is active and alert for a little bit longer and we get to know her better. she has deep blue eyes and a little button chin. she is ours and we love her more than we thought possible.
the first week FLEW by and already i find myself dreading the day she grows up and gets bigger. i am cherishing the ability to hold her 8.5 lbs close to my chest, held up in a sling by only a strip of linen. she will not be this size forever and will not need us the way she does now for forever. this, of course, is a good thing since the way she need us now involves nights of interrupted sleep and moments of frustration as we go through the checklist of things that may be making her fuss and still we can’t seem to solve what ails her.
nona (my mama) is in town for 8 days and it has been incredible. she certainly is the baby whisperer and has been teaching me a lot about patience and gentleness with ramona. i tend to want to stick ramona bean right on the boob if she gets squawky but sometimes all she wants is to be walked around the room or have her position switched-up. too often i am cleaning up gobs of spit-up bc i go straight to feeding her before trying other soothing methods and poor little girl gets really full of mama’s milk. my mother makes it all look so easy and i am praying that i pick up on that.