Atta Girl

Stone is 7 months old today.
Wait, seriously?
Seven? As in one more than six?
Amazing.

This morning, while feeding Stone, brushing my teeth, and checking my email all at once, I was thinking about how far we've come. Seven months ago today I was a different person. I was excited, nervous, optomistic, and MASSIVE. I had it all planned out- I knew exactly how the whole baby thing was going to work. I had read the books, the websites, the pamphlets- I was so prepared.
HA!
Enter Stone Sparrow.
He had other plans.
But throughout the medical drama, and the emotional drama that came with it, and the exhaustion that floated around us like smoke from the cigarettes that I'm no longer allowed to have EVER AGAIN NO MATTER HOW MUCH I WANT THEM, a family was forming.
My family.
I wish I could go back to that MASSIVE woman seven months ago and say:
"Okay, this next part is going to suck. Big time. You will cry and hurt. You will want to give up, but you don't have that choice anymore. You will forge a deal with God, and God will hold up his end of it, because your Son is going to be just fine".

I looked in the mirror this morning and, after wiping the toothpaste from the corner of my mouth and mopping up the lake of puke that was pooled in my cleavage, I smiled and thought
"Damn, I'm a good Mother".
And that means I'm holding up my end of the deal, too.



I love you, bologna brain.