This time last year, I walked up and down the corridors of the hospital with a tiny, chubby little bundle of love in my arms. Up and down, up and down. Worrying that my little daughter and I would wake someone up. The snow fell heavily outside, as I rocked her back to sleep, gazing out of the top floor window into the dark night.
I helped myself to some stale bread and brunost (sweet Norwegian goats cheese…), from the self serve cafeteria, carefully balancing an unsettled baby in one arm and pouring myself a cup of watery, day old coffee with the other free hand. I remember thinking nothing had ever tasted so good in my life.
Walking up and down the corridors of the top floor of our hospital, I felt on top of the world.
My squishy, dark haired, angry, beautiful little girl. Our calm, awesome, zen like birth story. I probably stayed awake way beyond what was necessary. I could’ve probably put her back into her cot, and she would have probably stayed asleep. But I didn’t mind. After all, I’d just given birth, and felt invincible.
A year later, and waking her Mamma up in the night continues to top the list of Sienna’s favourite hobbies. Other favourites include; Opening the toilet seat. Pushing prams, trolleys, chairs, tables, boxes, anything and everything pushable. Eating. Finley. Opening the bin and emptying its content. Jumping in bed in the morning. Hugs.
Here’s one of my favourites: You.