For 39 weeks, Ellabelle Louise lived inside of me. Only I knew her. Only I felt her. Only I got kicked in the pelvis by her. I knew her personality and her little quirks – like how her only liked to kick me at night and how she preferred to sleep on the top of my belly when I was on my side and it felt like she was trying to burst out. She loved popsicles. I had at least 3 a day.
For 39 weeks, I was uncomfortable and sick and nauseous. I had awful pain in my legs. I had morning sickness at night for the entire pregnancy.
For 39 weeks, she grew fingers and toes and organs and went from one tiny cell to many, many cells that function as a whole. She became a human.
Then, she came. At 39 weeks and 1 day, she was ushered into the world. After almost 24 hours in labor, she was quickly pulled out via emergency c-section.
And now, it’s 39 weeks and 2 days later. She’s a not just a tiny human anymore. She’s a little person.
After 39 weeks, she can stand with help. She can roll with a mission. She babbles a lot. She talks to herself when she’s falling asleep. She yells at her blankets. She can feed herself, both bottle-wise and food-wise. She loves Yo Gabba Gabba. She prefers to sleep on her tummy. She loves being in her carseat. She hates being held facing the body. She loves shopping and trying to eat her zippers.
After 39 weeks, she’s on her way to becoming an amazing, inquisitive, stubborn little girl. Plus, she’s grown lots of dark hair and is working on her 3rd and 4th tooth coming in.
Today, 39 weeks and 2 days later, she’s officially been out longer than she was in.