BabyMama: Is this the real life?

There is a stranger living in our house. 

We feed her, cloth her, care for her. But we're still learning who she is. We trust that she's a good person, but don't actually know what she's capable of.

One day, we were just two of us, a married couple, living happily in our home, and the next we had a new boarder. A tiny tenant for whom we had to re-arrange our schedules and lifestyle. We accepted this change willing, happily, and without hesitation. 

And it is so, so bizarre. 

Our sweet girl is almost 10 months old now. She has spent more time living outside my body than within. It is something I still marvel at, and even though it is very much a real part of our lives, still seems so foreign somehow. 

When our bebe was around two months old, the first time I was away from her for more than just an hour or so, it felt so strange to not be in her presence. I remember driving back, thinking to myself that if I arrived home to find no baby, and all the child-adjacent items gone - if I looked about and saw our home just as it had been only a few months before - I would think I had made it all up. That it had been just a dream. That we hadn't created a person and brought her into this world. There's no way so much had actually shifted in our lives so rapidly.

But I arrived home and there she was. Waiting with a toothless, drooly grin, presented in Simba-like fashion by her dad at our threshold. A new human, entirely dependent on us for survival, growth, and emotional support. A malleable creature whose future self will root deeply back to these current day-to-day moments. I remember just staring, thinking how strange it was that she was there. Having vividly remembered carrying her to term (and then some) and given birth to her, and hours of time spent physically feeding her with my body, and of us playing with her and cherishing time together - all those memories existed, but when she had no longer been in my physical presence, it seemed so unreal.* But a quick snuggling of her petite frame with my bosomy mom embrace, and it was clear that this really is happening.

We spend our lives in different stages, with some surpassing others as we go along. Sixteen years of my life were spent as a student. Twelve as a worker bee (so far). I've been eight years a partner and three years a wife. All my years I've been a sister, a daughter, a granddaughter (while our moms are just now become grandmothers - a new phase for them). But not yet one year a mother. Eventually, I'll have been married longer than I was unmarried (knock on wood), and will be a mama longer than I'll have been childless. Certain phases will eclipse others, and probably just as our daughter is ready to leave home, I'll have somewhat forgotten what life was like before her. 

I'm not at that point yet though. Right now, my days without her are still so vivid in my mind. New parents often have sentimental posts stating "I can't imagine my life without this little one!" But I can. I spent decades living it. I know exactly how things might look without our bundle of joy having ever been delivered. We chose this adventure though. We decided to embrace this new life (both literally a new life and a new type of life for us). We know what it looks like to be happy sans baby, while equally loving the world we're building. It is so beautiful, and exhausting.** I'm extremely present whilst simultaneously sentimental about every moment (even as it's still happening), because I know this precious time is fleeting. Yet it's still so hard to fathom that this is it. This really is our life. I can see all the steps that we took to get here, and I know we are here. Somehow I'm just dumbfounded and in awe, basking in this strange glow. Maybe it's the months of sleep deprivation finally manifesting. Or maybe I need to let our wee bebe pinch me with her teeny fingers just so I know I'm not dreaming... 

If this is a dream, maybe don't wake me. I want to see how it ends.

* Not like a Schrödinger's cat situation, but like, somehow that's what came to mind? But not in a morbid way? Like... I don't want to be comparing our daughter to a potentially dead cat? IDK, IYKYK.

** Sometimes the days are difficult, and I'm so tired and just wish the little lady would sleep so I can rest. But then when she's asleep, I stare at the monitor, wishing I could hold her and that we could laugh and play. You can appreciate how demanding parenthood is, and how tough it can be to show up the way you want to, while still being super sappy about it. My husband made a comment that sometimes when looking at old pix of our daughter when she's still so small, he wishes he could just reach into the picture and be back in that moment. And oooh boy do comments like that make me weeeeep.