Mila was born on the 17th of February 2015 at 13h44.

A tiny perfect brand new little human. Weighing 3.105kg and only 48cm long. She was so damn perfect (note the mother bias in that sentence) Everything about her, her smell, her small jerky movements, her little dark eyes searching for the familiar, her black hair, those tiny little fingers, teeny toes-all just breathed perfection. Even the pediatrician commented on our beautiful new born with her little elf ears. (I know he probably compliments everyone, he does still refer to her as he baby with the elf ears)


I was pretty chuffed with myself and the husband for making such a precious little person, yet I was freaking out. Here was a little peace of heaven that had to be taken care of. I still find it hard to wrap my head around that.

Our hospital stay kept us isolated from the real world, which I think is only fair. It gives you time to absorb the wonderous nature of the event that has taken place, it gives you time

I found my transition into taking care of little Mila quite effortless, in the sense that I didn’t have issues breastfeeding, she seemed pretty content and was quite healthy. We were making a pretty good team so far.

My darling husband was a superstar, wanting to be involved with everything and we were going to  conquer this parenting gig as a team.

Four days in hospital seemed like an eternity but at the same time went by so fast. I think they should look into setting up retreats for new families for at least a few weeks, to help ease into real life.

Before I knew it our hospital stay was over and we got to bring our new addition home, to officially start our family.


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