Two years ago, I was forming a lifelong friendship with my anesthesiologist.
Okay… we haven’t spoken since that day, but I would still hug him if I could.
A few hours later I stared at our Tiny Human in total disbelief that she was ours.
What did this mean for the future?
More importantly… would we ever sleep again?
The answer was no.
We were quickly introduced to the magic of the witching hour. And sleeping in the car seat (her, not us).
We were so terrified that her head would fall forward and she’d cut off her windpipe that we took turns staying up just so we could watch her breathe. (The acid reflux was so bad she couldn’t sleep lying down.)
We’ve come a long way in two years.
(If God chooses to give us another Tiny Human, we are prepared with all the gear we could ever want to survive the first four months, even with acid reflux.)
If Zoey never gets a sibling… we are prepared to help one Mama be very happy with all the gear she could want to survive the first four months.
Either way, this face is more than enough to keep us delighted. She is our celebration. Our miracle. And the reason I am currently rail thin (from chasing after her busy little body).
Just so y’all know… if you dump salt on the solid cherry dining room table… and put a piece of paper on top of that salt and rub… it acts as sandpaper.
Don’t ask how I know that.
Happy 2nd Birthday, Beautiful, Daring, Adventerous Girl.