I’ve been trying to write this for awhile now. Logistically, it’s hard to find time to do anything when caring for a baby, and when you do find yourself free for half an hour while your little miracle takes a miracle of a nap - you just want to eat, or wash a dish, or finally transfer the laundry over to the dryer. Emotionally, mentally - it’s been hard to find the words to describe what life has been like these past 4 months. I saw a video that said being a parent is hard to explain to people because:
“The hardships are describable, but the joy is not.”
I want so much out of this entry. I want my friends without kids to get it. I want the knowing nod from moms who have been doing this for decades. I don’t want it to feel like a giant “if you know, you know”
I want this to be perfect, so naturally it won’t be.
Eleanor Anne Lancaster came silently into this side of paradise at 12:06A.M. on 1/26/2026. She’s got her lucky numbers already.
She was deep purple, almost grey-ish. I thought she looked like an alien. They laid her on my chest for only a moment, just enough time for Ryan to cut the umbilical cord, before whisking her off onto the infant incubator about 8 feet away.
She made no sounds. I kept frantically asking the room of people why she wasn’t crying. The doctor assured me she was okay and had just swallowed quite a bit of fluid on the way out and they needed to clear her lungs. I laid open on the hospital bed, craning my neck to see any part of her, as the doctor stitched me up.
The NICU team kept commenting on how big she was (7lbs 11oz), but all I could think about was how small she was.
After her lungs were cleared and she was stable, they bundled her up and laid her in my arms. There she was, after all this time. After all this fear and hope and anticipation. She was here and she was breathing and she was mine. I wept.
The next day and a half were a blur of doctors, nurses, needles, and food trays. Birth certificate and Social Security registration (sorry babe, you’re on the grid), every blood test imaginable,
