One year ago today, the panda was born at the National Zoo. One year ago today, I had peed on three sticks, had seen three faint little lines, and had a complete breakdown in church. Yes, I was "that girl" who was sitting there hiding my eyes and crying like someone had just stabbed me. Getting pregnant unexpectedly is scary, even when you weren't trying and for 14 years doctors had told you you probably wouldn't be getting pregnant without some sort of medical intervention. So while I should have been thrilled to pieces that we were expecting without even trying, I was a wreck. I don't do well with change, and finding out you are pregnant is a big ass fucking change in one's life. I felt horrible that I wasn't swept off my feet at the idea of becoming a mother since it's one of the few things I've ever known I've wanted to do in life. It was such a scary time, but then I talked to my doctor, had the blood test and an ultrasound (being irregular 98% of the time and not knowing if I even ovulate means having no clue when this might have happened), found an OB, prayed a lot, and things started to get a little better. It was also nice to know why I wasn't able to look at food without barfing.
One year ago today, you were a grain of rice with a thumpity-thumpity little heartbeat. Five months ago today you entered this crazy mixed up world of ours, 7lbs and 1oz of newborn baby. Now you are almost 15lbs of pure love and drool. Your face lights up when I come into the room, and that giggle of yours is infectious. You are very serious when you play, being able to pick things up with both hands and jam just about anything that comes within your reach into your mouth. It still breaks my heart to leave you every morning to go to work, but I know your daddy loves you as much as I do and you two have fun together. A weird positive side effect of him taking care of you while he looks for a job is that you two have bonded much more than you would have otherwise, much more than a lot of kids whose dads leave for work every day. We still go for walks every evening, and despite having a pitiful milk supply and wishing I was able to "properly" breastfeed you, we still nurse 2-3 times a day, but for comfort and fun. You like to smile up at me from your perch on my nipple, happy as a fat little clam. You talk to yourself and to your toys, I can't imagine all that goes on in that little head of yours. I can't wait to see where we are next year at this time. You are the greatest, my little love.