My baby, the one that came quietly out of my womb at a petite seven pounds and three ounces, is celebrating twelve weeks of breathing air on earth today. Twelve weeks! Three months! It’s crazy town over here.
From her first days at home as a delicate newborn….
…to a rolly polly of adorable fat who wakes up singing with laughs every morning.
It’s hard to believe that three months have passed, but our life before March 27th feels like it existed in some alternate universe. I remember it in a fuzzy, disconnected way. It’s all about milk and diapers and the logistics of life with a baby these days, and–I never thought I would be saying this–I wouldn’t go back to the way it was before for anything.
Happy twelve weeks, little one! You seem like such a big girl already.