|This past weekend, playing in the creek.|
At this moment three years ago, I was still at work, very pregnant, but trying to finish up a little early because I had a feeling the baby was coming early. She was not due for another three and a half weeks. I finished meeting with clients at about 4:00, went to Babies 'R Us to shop for a crib bumper (I mean- you can't bring the baby home without the crib bumper!), and called my sister-in-law about something. She asked me how I was feeling and I told her about some crampiness that felt different that morning. I said as long as I was off my feet I felt okay. She asked a few questions about pregnancy/labor things, then informed me I was most definitely on my way to having the baby soon.
Let me pause and ask, for just a second, how many of you are wondering if I am about to tell my birth story, in all its glory? Bwahahaha- you wish! No way I'd publish those gory details! I'm not that brave. And I can't handle reliving the trauma.
A few hours later we were googling "labor" to determine if, in fact, I was in labor. Oh, hindsight. You really are 20/20.
Yada yada yada... Labor happened... Chicken Little was born! 11:45 that night.
This is pretty much how I remember her those first few weeks:
|wook at dat wittle bitty ting|
If I could go back and re-enjoy that time, I totally would. I remember trying to, but also feeling keyed up with this whole "new baby" thing. Sort of in an adrenaline fog.
But seriously- all she really did was sleep. She couldn't have been any easier. I just didn't really know that at the time.
And this is her now:
|photo courtesy of Robinson Imagery. Incredible work, right?|
Happy third, Chicken Little! Now go to sleep already. You've been talking in your crib (yes, still in a crib) for almost an hour.