Aria officially has more experience with life outside the womb than in the womb.
40 weeks ago,
2,000+ diapers ago,
4,804 baby wipes ago,
129 days of daycare ago,
146 days and 274 nights at home ago,
4 days and 3 nights at grandma and grampa’s ago,
2 days and 1 night at the hospital ago,
3 overnight trips ago (B&B in Weschester Pennsylvania, camping at Catoctan Mountain, a hotel at Harper’s Ferry),
1,500+ nursings ago,
Hundreds of supermans and squats and push-ups ago,
Hundreds of inches of crawling and scootching ago (beginning with the eight 20 minutes after she was born,
Dozens of books and stories ago,
Aria traveled from the dark to the light, from the warm to the cold, from swimming in liquid and being nourished by blood, to gasping in air and crying for milk.
From a 2 centimeter peanut
To a 2 foot, 3 inch little girl that stand and laughs and maybe says “hi” and “mama” and “dada” and “diaper.”
She still needs me as she did in the womb, but now she could easily survive without me, but not without someone. I’m just glad to still be that someone, along with her amazing dad.
Experienced as she is with this thing we call life, Aria still has a lifetime of learning to go. A thousand milestones ahead and behind.
So happy first Thanksgiving Sweet, Sweet! I so grateful to have carried you snug in my womb for nine months, and to have carried and nursed you nearly every day since.
When you’re to old to carry, I’ll still hold you tight. And I can’t hold you, because I am gone, I’ll be a song and a memory to help you stand strong.
Come hell or high water, I’ll still be your mom.
Thank you, my little lovely. My Aria. My song.