Introducing....

Miss Emily Mae Manley

Born February 4, 2010, at 9:15 a.m. Weighing in at 8 pounds, 9 ounces, and measuring 20 inches long. She's got lots of long, dark hair and deep blue eyes. Perfect in every sense of the word!

We went in for our c-section early, early Thursday morning. Everything went just fine, except for a couple of minutes there where I thought we were going to lose Brian to the hard concrete floor. Poor guy had to go outside for a moment! I was able to see the little miss very soon, probably within an hour of surgery. She was so round, and pink, with the chubbiest cheeks I've ever seen on a baby. And she was mine, all mine!

The hospital stay flew by, and before we knew it we were discharged and heading home. Which is a weird feeling. Exciting, to get this new life started at home with family, but at the same time, scary as hell, without the help of a nurse a button's touch away. We had my mom stay with us for the first three days, and then Brian's mom came for a day. She went home today, and took Andrew with her for the weekend. It'll give Brian, Emily, and me some time to bond. As nice and quiet as it is, I miss Andrew terribly and it's only been a few hours. I feel like I haven't seen him in a week. But I'm sure he's having a ball, and is not even thinking about me right now!

Speaking of Andrew, he's starting to acknowledge the baby now, instead of refusing to look at, touch, or talk about her! Today he even gave her a kiss on the head. He's most concerned when the baby is crying, and he's the first to say, "Baby crying!!" Which I'm sure is not so much out of concern for the baby as it is annoyance at this little thing making noise.

So we're at home, watching the opening ceremonies on tv, with snow falling outside. I'm content for the moment, but as most mothers are after having given birth, I'm liable to cry at any moment, for any reason. Things are going better than I'd hoped, Emily is a sleeper. A good, good sleeper. So good that we have to wake her to feed her, which seems wrong, but a girl's gotta eat. Nursing could be better, but it's working, she's pooping, and I have to remind myself that she's only a week old, and with each day that passes she'll get better at it, and so will I. I also remind myself that every day is the last day she will be that size, that with each day she's bigger, and older, and that I'd better love each moment, even at 3 a.m.