When Brady was 12 days old, I had to leave him and go back to the hospital, not once but twice. I remember feeling my incision gush with blood and not knowing what was about to come. I had to leave my tiny little precious baby to spend time in the hospital! I still remember sobbing on the way to the hospital, telling Blake I was just fine and didn't need to go. I cried while I was there and begged to go home, despite being this close to needing a blood transfusion. That feeling I remember was enough to push me for that VBAC. It was enough to give myself and my boys a chance, which is exactly what I told my nurse while I was in labor.
But...here we are 12 days post-partum and doing great, given we have a big case of cabin fever and a bit tired from feeding a baby all day and night but those are expected and given the big picture, we are so grateful.
So, this time, I get to witness moments like this that make my heart swoon.
I love the way he is looking at Brady. I'm pretty sure he already thinks that Brady hung the moon.