The story of Becky’s birth is, in some ways, very straight forward – after a week of “false” labor due to her positioning, she was born at home, in water, into my arms. Chelsea caught these beautiful pictures, and they say so much more than my words can right now.
The longer version still needs to be written. I have the rough, straight out of my head, 3 days postpartum version over here (and videos here), but I’ve been trying for a month to rewrite it, and have a mental block. Surely… surely Becky can’t be one yet. I don’t know if I have even been this bone deep sad about one of my kids getting older – I miss their baby days, but I also look forward to their growing independence and all the discoveries four, five, six, and beyond will bring. But the idea that Becky will be… is… no longer my tiny baby has caught me off guard, and I’m not quite ready to admit it.
I swear it went twice this fast.