It’s all coming back to me now. Right before we started the process to bring my son home, I was having major child envy. I was ready a little before my husband was and, truthfully, I pushed that one through a little early. I suspect that this will be a lot more difficult. Last time, I didn’t get the child-bug until shortly before we started the process. This time I have it and I know I have to wait at least two more years.

I’m actually hoping that it will even out a little. Right now, a whole bunch of the waiting parents on one of my message boards are celebrating their children’s arrival day. I keep hearing the first day at home stories and I’m getting nostalgic. Logic reminds me that it wasn’t really that fun, but emotion keeps getting in the way.

I remember coming home from the airport. My parents, my sister and my husband’s parents were at the airport so we all arrived at the same time. My husband’s brother and family arrived shortly after and there was a little bit of chaos as everything was sorted out. Everyone had to hold my son and I was trying my hardest to be patient. I really didn’t want everyone to be holding him. I wanted to hold him!

There were so many firsts that day - the first bottle that we made for him, the first time he laughed, the first time he met his cousins, the first time we saw him rollover, the first time we saw him try to crawl…

There was the two o’clock wake up call. Though my son went to sleep in the evening well and slept in his crib, he did not sleep through the night. At two o’clock, he was up and ready to go. He had his time zones a little backwards. The problem was that my husband and I hadn’t slept very well the night before so we were exhausted. I remember around seven o’clock in the morning my mother stuck her head in the bedroom and offered to take our son for awhile so that we could sleep. We didn’t hesitate.

Do you have a first day home story?