it’s sinking in still

This still doesn’t seem real. I’ve waited for this moment for so long – waited to meet this child whose face I’ve studied in pictures. And now he’s here and it still seems too good to be true. Even when I had pee dripping down my back, even when my shirt stinks of spit up and my pants have hardened drops of formula. It still doesn’t seem quite real. I’m running out of words that mean "happiness".

M (2)

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