For Tilly, Day 5.
And here you are.
This whole, extraordinary, exquisite little person. A head full of dark, silk soft hair, a moon round face with so much of daddy and only flickers of me.
Here you are. Tiny fingers with soft nails, and long feet with long, straight toes. One ear slightly more folded on the upper edge than the other.
Here you are. Rosebud lips, the lower one you draw in and gently suck as you sleep. A dimple below your nose, and the markings of what will be dark eyebrows. Here you are, midnight blue eyes, I see my reflection in them and know the world has changed again.
And here we are, a mummy and daddy for the first time together, basking in you. Overwhelmed by your tininess and the instant, powerful urge to be your protectors, on edge with anxiousness of keeping you safe.
Here we are, wrapped in the bliss of your contentment, focussed on you as the centre of the world, while there’s nothing more we can do but wait. Wait for you to grow and change and settle into this busy, wild, beautiful family of ours. Wait for some resemblance of routine to come, some predictability to our days. Here we are in this newborn galaxy where time ebbs and flows, and the universe settles around your existence. Here we are, falling in love with you.
These are the magical, soft, fleeting, exhausting, twilight days of your newness. Where you change between each sleep, and grow into your newborn wrinkles, soft in my arms. These brief days where I can see in your movements the sensations I felt in my womb. How the way you tip your head is the gentle stretch I felt in my pelvis, how the way you push your legs straight is what I felt under my ribs, and how you suck your hands, like we saw in your scans, that I could feel as little nudges on my lower right belly.
These are the days where you sleep soundly on our chests, rendering us immobile but adoring. These are the days where my breasts are the wonder cure of every slight frown, or discomfort. Where they are your pillow, your security, your second known home.
And, Here we are, you and I, because you don’t yet know that you’re a separate entity to me. Here we are in the soft glow of the nightlight, as we lie together while the world sleeps silently around us. You eat and we snuggle and we melt together as we drift back to sleep.
Here we are, as I’m woken by your snuffles as you search again for food, and I willingly, always willingly, oblige and my body blends into yours, and we fall float quietly back to sleep- milky, warm, safe.
Here we are, you and I.
Here you are. At last. Here you are.