Nyaniso went to work today. And then to the gym. I can't wait to get back to the gym. I miss the go-getter feeling of pushing weights and sensing my strength. I sometimes wonder why I can't just gym already. I puzzle the dull ache that sits in my pubic bones and glutes. And then I remind myself that only nine days ago I birthed a baby. What a wild moment that was.

I didn't think I'd see her emerge with my own eyes. After months with a big belly I was convinced that it would be impossible for me to see her. But in that moment, as her head began to crown, I pressed down on my belly - all soft and gooey - and there she was. I have no idea how I appeared on the outside. Internally I was aghast and elated. I breathed with each surge, let contractions lead the way. Worked with my body, rode every wave of push that washed through me. I inhaled the support from our birth team and the top of her head popped into a face. There she was. A whole human. Her bulging cheeks blood-covered as she slowly made her way out. Nyaniso and I took a moment to acknowledge each other there. Between surges. Caught eyes and said a million words with a blink. That moment symbolized everything we've worked for, in ourselves and in this marriage. A togetherness that I will fiercely protect with all of me.

They say a newborn will test your relationship. Perhaps it's all yet to come but I haven't felt that yet. They say a newborn will arrive into your life and you'll think, "Where's the manual, what am I supposed to do with this?" I also haven't felt that. I sometimes feel puzzled at the fact she doesn't actually talk, because of how much she says and how clearly she says it.

Baby, baby! Mama, mama! Papa, papa!

What a wild ride this is.