welcome to the world little one

As I write this post, there's a steaming cup of tea in front of me, frosted windows glittering with the golden rays of late afternoon sunlight and.. the ear piercing screams of a grumpy baby. Which I have somehow managed to tune out as I sit and take 15 minutes to myself. (Don't worry, his father is looking after him.. I'm not that negligent of a mother).

Luca Moreno came into the world in the cold early hours of New Years Eve. And suddenly life has changed completely. My world as I once knew it has dissolved before my eyes and I'm an alien wandering through a maze of uncharted land trying to find my way out. Wherever and whatever "out" is. Time is no longer measured in hours or days, but feedings and poopy diapers and naptimes. My time, my space, my body is no longer my own. I treasure the 10 minutes I have alone when I can take a shower and the only sound is the water pattering against the glass and no one demands my attention.

The hours and days slip by and I sometimes feel like I'm wandering through them in a twilight daze; here, but not here. It feels like just yesterday we were in the hospital meeting our little man for the first time. 

Sometimes I look at him and I can't believe he's really here. He was just a thought at first, and then something real but unseen and unfelt, and then something felt but not seen.. and then... here.

I don't think any books or friendly advice can prepare you for the dramatic change of pace that a tiny human creates. And as foreign and crazy as life suddenly became, it also feels strangely familiar. Right. Like this is how it is supposed to be. That I'm still on the invisible path leading ahead. I have a lot of doubts still, fears, uncertainty about this new and mysterious journey of sleepless nights and sleepy days. But somehow in the chaos there is a calm; a strange sort of solace in those tiny fingers and wide eyes.