Zoe, ten days old, sleeping on Peter's chest.
I’ll never forget the night we came home, just a few hours after I birthed Zoe. I couldn’t sleep. I mean, would you? I was high on the best adrenaline rush I have ever experienced. Natural birth makes you feel as though you can swim the Atlantic then race across the world twice and after that go out and celebrate. It was a little after three in the morning when we arrived at our house. I managed to finally fall asleep by four, but woke up at six. I leaned over to look at Zoe. She was perfectly still, swaddled so tightly in her yellow blanket, her only movement was the tiny rise and fall of her breathing. My sleeping cherub. Still fresh with the scent of heaven in her hair. I couldn’t resist. I had to have her in my arms. I reached into the bassinet and cradled her next to me. Continue reading
The Joy of This 