Notes from the house of a newborn

Having a newborn in the house again is - well, in all honesty and at the risk of failing in my role as a writer, I don't really have the words for it.

It's extreme. A mix of intense happiness and sudden crashes. Uncertainty. Total bliss. Tiredness, tears, laughs and love.

This time around it's easier, harder, just the same, different. All those things mixed together.

There are a whole heap of things going around my head and my heart...

Watching the beautifully caring instinct of my big girl as she sings to, cuddles and comforts her baby sister.

The pride as we see this little one grow and thrive, with the knowledge that we're helping her do that. The best feeling ever.

The feeling of absolute overwhelm in the moments it hits that this little person is entirely dependent on me.

Seeing our baby's eyes light up and look around every time she hears her big sister's voice.

Noticing my body recover and change, and with that seeing the hope of being able to take on more physically again soon. (And trying not to push too hard in the meantime.)

Her eyes gazing up at me as she feeds. The look of drunkeness on her face as she finishes with a full belly and exhaustion from all that hard work.

The funny little expressions on her face as she sleeps. The cute little noises she makes.

Watching people in our lives who have such a close connection with Abbey start to form a whole new relationship with Iris, which will be just as special.

And in the moments it all feels too much I just stop. I laugh and dance with my big girl, cuddle up with my baby girl, talk to my wonderful man, and just be here with them.