I struggled to write this, but the stories are there, and they will unearth themselves, they will shake themselves loose over time. The stories I can tell from the last two weeks are the ones I will tell as an old lady. When my water broke, when they put my baby boy in my arms, how hard it was the first night home. We have lived some of the most important of our days in the last two weeks.
The pierce in my heart is starting to fade. Oh so quickly too. The pierce of homesickness for the way things used to be. My particular brand of baby blueness is homesickness. This time I expected it and had forgiven myself far in advance. I forgive myself for being sad and lonesome for the way it used to be. I can cuddle my baby without fear. I can say exactly how I feel. Because I know I'm good. Because I know time will heal us and we will be home before we know it.