home and one week

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**tuesday july 10th – 2040** 1 day old **

-ellies pov-

By the time we get into the apartment she is crying bloody murder and I start to get panicked. It's all on us now, taking care of her is on us. "I think she might be hungry. My mom said that when in doubt you offer the boob" I say and unbuckle her from her seat.

"Come on princess, let's get you that boob, wont that be nice huh?" I say and carry her into our bedroom where the feeding pillow is. In the hospital we have been using regular pillows to help me do this, but the booby will be more convenient.

Latching a baby while they are crying isn't the easiest, but eventually I get a good latch and she sucks away. Maybe I was right, and she was hungry, or maybe the boob just sooth her too. Isn't it a comfort thing for babies to nurse? I think I've heard that somewhere, but I don't know if it's true though.

Alex comes in with our bags, putt things away and all that while I feed her. "Do you want the other boob too?" I say before I switch her side, she did want the other boob. But after a few minutes she pulls away clearly done with feeding.

"Should we put her in her basinet? It's probably time for a nap and she needs to sleep on a flat surface" I tell Alex who agrees. The snoo has this handy swaddle that you put the baby in, zip it up and then attach to the sides. That way she doesn't get too far to one side or the other, it's a smart contraption.

We got told in the hospital how important it is to sleep on a flat surface to prevent SID which sounds terrifying. Obviously, we aren't going to take any risks when it comes to that, so flat surface it is.

"I think I'm going to take a shower, I smell like a hospital and want to get all the disgusting stuff away from my skin" I tell him and gather some new clothes. After getting undressed I look at myself in the mirror. Part of me hoped that the belly would go away when she was out, but it still has a lot of shrinking to do. The hospital gave me something called a belly band that I'm going to use, its apparently good to help keep things tight and give you a better feeling or something like that. I have no idea if it's true, but now I feel floppy so it's worth a try.

My boobs are bigger than they have ever been, they have grown so fast that there are stretch marks on the sides of them which I hate. I know it's just because they had to get bigger to feed my daughter, but I still hate it with a burning passion. How can I ever like what I see in the mirror when I look like this. My body will never be the same and that makes me really sad. But then I look at that little girl in the basinet, and everything bad fades away. She is worth it; she is worth anything. Of course I wouldn't exchange my old body for that little girl, I'm never letting go of her.

I take off the mesh underwear too which is oh so glamorous before getting in the shower. The hot water stings against my sensitive nipples. They're so sore, but they obviously need to stay clean, so baby girl doesn't catch something bad.

This birth really fucked up my body when I see a stream of blood going down the drain making tears stream down my face. It's a mix of horror from what has happened, but it's also pure happiness. The emotions are so heightened that I don't think there will take much for me to burst into tears in the coming days that for sure.

When we go back to school, she will be 8 weeks old, how am I supposed to leave my baby to go to class? But it's important as I can't throw away my education now that I'm a year into it. When my daughter grows up, I want her to value a good education, so I would be a hypocrite to do something different myself. Besides, my mom or Viviane will be watching her when we are at school, so we don't need to have a stranger watch our little girl.

**

I'm sitting on the couch holding Emilia after feeding her when betty comes in the door. "Hi. Oh my god so cute she is" she says and come over. We only had our closest family come to the hospital as we weren't there for long and wanted others to meet her once we got home.

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