One Week

The Babycentre pregnancy app popped up on my phone yesterday and congratulated me for reaching the 40 week mark. Forget 40 weeks, I still can't believe I was pregnant for 39.

I also can't believe that as of this evening (6:46pm to be exact), Spencer is one week old. He has already changed so much in seven days that I would be lying if I didn't say I am already feeling sad to see him grow. I remember staring at Eloise endlessly when she was a newborn and finding it remarkable that we could create something so beautiful and perfect. For some reason I wasn't sure a second baby would have the same effect - we have already been through this after all - but I find myself admiring Spencer constantly and wishing hard that he never grow up. Maybe even more this time because of the possibility that Spencer is my last baby.

They say a baby makes you forget childbirth and I would have to agree. What I am left with a week later is the memory of what turned out to be a positive birth experience that delivered me a perfect baby. And you know what, I'd go so far as to say I'd even go through it all over again (okay, minus the three day string-a-long wait for surgery). I am recovering fairly well and although I am anxious to heal so I can get on with life as I know it, the next six weeks of enforced relaxation are not such a bad thing for me. I'm taking the time to get to know my little boy, experience the joys and challenges of two children and not taking that sweet newborn smell for granted for one second.