This time last year I was miserable. I was huge. I couldn’t breathe. When I walked my pelvic bones hurt. When he moved his head, I’d have a sharp pain.
I was nervous about the upcoming birth that would be induced on the 30th. The pregnancy was rough. I had a hard time with my health. In and out of the doctors and ER and it all was leading up to this one day.
At the crack of dawn, before the crack actually, I’d be getting up and driving into the place where’d I’d soon be meeting my third son. This time last year it was going to be our last Christmas as a family of four and we’d be ringing in the New Year in the hospital.
Flash forward a year and you’ll often find me gazing upon his beautiful face. I’ll catch myself in a daze, lost in his features. Those adorable gapped teeth, big beautiful grayish, blueish, greenish eyes and a smile that could melt a snowman in the dead of winter.
Though the pregnancy seemed to have dragged on and on, this first year with babyd has gone in a blink of an eye. Truth be told, part of me is sad. I miss him being a tiny little one. And part of me holds tightly knowing in 6 months I’ll miss this age deeply.
A very special Christmas is only mere days away. His first Christmas. And our first as a family of five.
A sweetly special day, indeed.