(no subject)
Apparently it's impossible for a guy to make his own announcement, but oh well. I guess I'll just say whatever the fuck I want now.
As I said, no Top of the Pops for me. What was that "personal business"? If you couldn't guess already, then please, go try to jump into the bay. Obviously I was here, home. Manna was really calm about the entire thing. She just told me to get her suitcase and get in the car. I drove way too fast (who would have guessed?). A lot of the rest is a blur. I remember the white, sterile nature of the hospital that just made me anxious. At first she wanted everything to be natural, but she quickly changed her mind. I'll make a long story short and rip off what somebody said to me: I saw her in all the pain and my heart broke, but then our child was born and my heart melted. A little baby girl. So tiny. So fragile. There's just this mind-blowing feeling that you get when you first make eye contact with your child, knowing that you creating something so unique and amazing. You've created life. I dare someone to find something more amazing than that. The feeling in the room when it was just the 3 of us I can't even begin to describe. It's just this overwhelming sense of joy, pride, and awe. It's like this dreamy haze that intoxicates you and makes everything have this beauty to it.
Then I had to leave. That was probably the single hardest thing I've ever had to do...but I had to go.
Now she's 5 days old. 5 days. It seems like longer somehow. I guess we're adapting somewhat well. I think I've gotten about 3 hours of sleep in the past week, but that's okay. Of course, after you get home from the hospital, your happy little bubble bursts. The baby pukes on you, you have to change diapers, you have to feed her, bathe her...welcome to reality. She's a little devil, and I love her that way. It's sure as fuck not easy, but we're trying our best. Everything looks good from my vantage point.
As I said, no Top of the Pops for me. What was that "personal business"? If you couldn't guess already, then please, go try to jump into the bay. Obviously I was here, home. Manna was really calm about the entire thing. She just told me to get her suitcase and get in the car. I drove way too fast (who would have guessed?). A lot of the rest is a blur. I remember the white, sterile nature of the hospital that just made me anxious. At first she wanted everything to be natural, but she quickly changed her mind. I'll make a long story short and rip off what somebody said to me: I saw her in all the pain and my heart broke, but then our child was born and my heart melted. A little baby girl. So tiny. So fragile. There's just this mind-blowing feeling that you get when you first make eye contact with your child, knowing that you creating something so unique and amazing. You've created life. I dare someone to find something more amazing than that. The feeling in the room when it was just the 3 of us I can't even begin to describe. It's just this overwhelming sense of joy, pride, and awe. It's like this dreamy haze that intoxicates you and makes everything have this beauty to it.
Then I had to leave. That was probably the single hardest thing I've ever had to do...but I had to go.
Now she's 5 days old. 5 days. It seems like longer somehow. I guess we're adapting somewhat well. I think I've gotten about 3 hours of sleep in the past week, but that's okay. Of course, after you get home from the hospital, your happy little bubble bursts. The baby pukes on you, you have to change diapers, you have to feed her, bathe her...welcome to reality. She's a little devil, and I love her that way. It's sure as fuck not easy, but we're trying our best. Everything looks good from my vantage point.