Extra: Ordinary Moments
Where do I even start? Two weeks at home with Matilda. It's been so huge and significant and utterly life altering. It's been all about the minute details.
It's been holding her in my hands, hearing a baby cry outside and automatically turning to the window to check that she's okay.
It's been the practicalities of meeting our health visitor and Matilda's (routine) hearing test and registering her birth. Also saying thanks and goodbye to my community midwife (*sob*).
It's been taking turns to do the middle of the night feeds and handle the nappy crises. And to have cuddles with our wonderful daughter.
It's been watching the cats slowly shift from wariness to acceptance of the new arrival.
It's been parcel after parcel of thoughtfully chosen gifts arriving at the door. It's been friends coming round for flying visits.
It's been laughing helplessly at the ten minutes of exaggerated stretches she does when she wakes up, at Steve narrating her thoughts as she waves her arms around and pulls faces, at her ferocious attempts to roll over. It's been moments of hopelessness when I couldn't think how else to entertain her.
It's been marvelling every time she learns or does something new, celebrating every day when her legs or her neck are that little bit stronger.
It's been selecting cute clothes - a flowery babygrow on the day we first went into the garden; definitely not the glow in the dark skeleton outfit on the day she was meeting the neighbours.
It's been feeling baffled by all the people on Twitter talking about normal events instead of nappies.
It's been looking at photos of her while she's sleeping and being unable to take my eyes off them. It's been looking at her any time and not believing she's real.
It's been counting up the days she's been alive and being stunned by the tiny number. It's been feeling like she's always been around.
Hi! I'm a 30-something stay-at-home feminist mother-of-one. I live in Aberdeen, Scotland with my toddler, boyfriend and two black cats.