“I’ll hold her little hopes and dreams. I’ll hold her in her sadness or fears. I’ll hold her up in prayer. And I’ll ALWAYS hold a place for her in the center of my heart. Because that’s what you do with your baby. You just hold ‘em every chance you get.”
“I hear it all the time. ‘Why are you always taking pictures?’ ‘Live in the moment and stop trying to take a picture.’ ‘Really? You want to take a photo?'”
“The way she looks at life after all she has been through is something I aspire to have. I am so excited to watch her grow and enjoy life.”
“Because a mama’s body? It is a sponge. Absorbing the entirety of the world around her. Those responsibilities she must hold and honor. The endless reel of worries. The flood of feelings she can’t prevent from drowning her heart. Guilt. Fear. Anguish. Heartache. Loneliness. Comparison.”
“It’s my turn to memorize the perfect squishiness of chubby baby faces. It’s my turn to heal boo-boos with a kiss. It’s my turn to cuddle and rock. It’s my turn for park days and playdates. It’s my turn to soak up the beautiful, exhausting, magic of motherhood while the turn is still mine.”
“No sleep, all adrenaline, high on love, low on hormones.”
“Five years ago my husband wouldn’t have attempted to take apart a showerhead to fix it; he would have bought a new one without a second thought. Five years ago he would have rather missed an opportunity than try and fail.”
“I was discouraged from ever mentioning my mother. Until 13, I didn’t even know her name. Our curiosity is not a threat; your jealousy is.”
“We did everything we could to support her biological mother. Sadly, it became clear reunification would not be possible. I remember feeling that we would adopt her, but it was not an easy path.”
“I won’t lie, I loved it. I loved the praise, the increased Instagram likes, the attention. I always saw myself as the chubby awkward girl and was in awe of my skinnier friends, but now I had a chance to be like them, to be accepted.”
