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My eyes well with tears. This happens every time I think about it. It’s been three months of hospital visits, and every day I’ve sat with him and watched as he’s gotten stronger and stronger. I’m so proud of him already. He’s going to be an incredible, happy little boy who makes my world so much brighter every damn day. The girls are going to love him just as they love each other, and just as they love Bull and me.

Coby and Ryan have only met him once, and it was only for a brief moment, but it’s all I’ll allow at this point, for their sake and for his. I didn’t want them seeing more of him. He’s tiny and only had the tubes and cords removed a few days ago. Seeing him like this is only going to worry them, so when they meet him for real, it’s going to be when he’s at his best, though, hopefully, it won’t be much longer. They’re dying to meet their little brother properly.

Things are really looking up for Zeke. When he was first born, he was so small and already extremely malnourished. It made me wonder why the doctors didn’t pick up on his small size earlier. Maybe Jessa wasn’t attending all her scans like she said she was.

Zeke needed a lot of help, especially right after he was born. He would cry non-stop, and my heart broke every time I heard his precious little voice. It’s impossible to know because he can’t tell me with words, but I could have sworn he sounded in pain. It’s been a long and bumpy journey for him, and after these very long few months, he should be well enough to bring home over the next few days.

I’m not going to lie, it’s been hard. Like really fucking hard, but I’ve had both Zoey and Bull to keep me strong. I don’t know if it’s the hormones from my pregnancy, but for some reason, this is hitting me harder than anything has ever hit me before.

Bull and I have been tackling this head-on. I’m at the hospital while he’s at work, and then we switch once he comes off shift, but with Coby and Ryan at home, there have had to be times where Zeke is left alone, and it kills me. I know the nurses have him under control, but he’s just a baby and should never be left like that. He needs the comfort of a loving, familiar voice. Moments where that regrettably happens, Bull’s mom is happy to go and sit with him, and I’ve never been so grateful. She sends me regular updates and pictures of the gorgeous little facial expressions he makes.

We’ve all instantly fallen in love with him, and I can’t wait to get him home to truly start our lives with him. The real struggle is when this next baby arrives in a few weeks, and Bull and I have to tackle them both. Fuck, it’s going to be an interesting ride.

Zoey has been a real lifesaver too. She takes the girls as much as she can, and despite how much she loves having them, I feel awful about it. Zoey has a lot of work going on, and I know she’s been neglecting her blog a little too much recently, but she insists that it’s fine, so I let it go.

I rest my hand over my bump, though it’s not so much of a bump anymore. It’s more of a mountain sticking out of my body, threatening to overtake me. I feel like an elephant. My feet ache, and my body is exhausted. Only a few more weeks and I’ll be back to normal. Well, mostly. I’ll be dealing with my body trying to morph back to its former glory while I have four little ones depending on me.

My baby kicks me up in my ribs, and I groan for the hundredth time today. This pregnancy has been pretty good, apart from the shitty start, of course, but the kick on this baby is not something to be laughed at. I mean, surely this baby is going to be an Olympic soccer player.

Tarryn comes in, and I smile at the nurse who’s been right by our side throughout this whole journey. “How’s he doing today, Momma?” she murmurs, picking up his chart and checking him over.

“He’s doing great,” I smile, so damn proud of my little boy. “He’s had a bottle, pooped all through the crib, and just had a long sleep.”

“Oh, good,” she says, hooking the chart back onto the side of his crib. “He should be ready for a play then. Would you like to have a hold?”

My eyes bulge out of my head. Since being born, we haven’t had as many opportunities to hold him as we would have liked, but when those precious times come, I’m always sure to grab hold with two hands and never let the chance slip through my fingers. Literally.


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