She was my living doll. My baby... but she is not a baby anymore...
I cried when my Mother called me to announce her birth. I had been waiting by the phone for two days, my heart leaping painfully into my chest each time it rang with no news.
Tears welled in my eyes when I visited Mother and baby in the hospital (the same one Saorla herself was born in) but this time I confidently reached for the tiny bundle offered. Held her close. Inhaled her new baby scent and just lost myself in the wonder of it all.
Holding her, feeding her, cooing and talking to her immediately connects me to those wild first emotions of becoming a Mama myself. Remembering tiny details of early days with my babes that I thought almost forgotten in the fog of 'baby-brain', but instead, I find they have been stored up inside me in a secret compartment, where they can never be erased. Slumbering memories, awoken by the surprisingly strong grasp of this tiny new life..