Becca.
Forty-eight hours after having Dahlia, I was finally able to make my way back home. I had never been so happy to walk through the large glass front double doors into the relaxed comfort of my New Zealand home.
Boxes still lined the areas in some places where I hadn’t had the time to unpack, but it didn’t matter to me. At the end of the day, it was still my home, and with every moment I spent here, I knew things would get better.
“Welcome home, my sweet, Dahlia,” I whispered to the tiny sleeping baby in my arms.
“Everything is set up for her,” Neal said softly from behind me as he brought in my bags from the car. “I also managed to hang the thing you wanted on her bedroom wall.”
A spark of joy ran through me as I turned down the hallway towards the nursery. It was joined with my bedroom, and as soon as I slid back the bar-style door, my breath was taken away.
