2 Months...

I can't believe she's two months already.  Wow.  I know I'm going to blink and she'll be asking for money.

 

Little Blue and her blue room...

One of my good friends helped me paint the nursery a few days before we found out that we had lost the baby.  In fact, just the night before the big 20week ultrasound, I busted my lip changing out a lamp shade in the room; it seems silly now, but I was worried that the doctors would pull me aside and ask if "everything was alright at home." 

The room was in such disarray with miscellaneous furniture/stuff and few baby affects that it didn't really bother me.  Every now and then I would go in there and cry and think about the symbolic "empty room."  Looking back, in my efforts to grieve, I wanted the room to be sadder than it actually was.  It was just paint. 

The nursery is now my favorite place in the house, and I love that it isn't empty.  People asked me if I wanted to repaint it--yes--but not because of the history, because I think it is an awkward blue.  No matter the color, the afternoon sun makes it a very peaceful place.

Yes, the dresser is in the closet.  It is a very small space.

Frank's and my hand prints from 1986.  (I don't know if you can see the backward N in Frank's name--Love)  It must have been a Christmas craft for Sunday School that year.  I'll add Bradley's one of these days.

A post that is NOT about poop...

Little Bit (or Little Bitty) as she has come to by called has stolen my heart.

I love that she stretches with every inch of her body.

This is the expression we see the most, but in the last week or so she has started smiling and "talking."

I got this bear get-up at a consignment shop, and I thought it would be great on cold days, for football games, and walks 'n such; unfortunately, she's about to outgrow it.  I think this look was supposed to tell me that her left paw was full of blowout overflow.

That is not sweat.

I couldn't help but smile.  I now have to shower (as if I didn't need one already).

Milk coma

 

What a difference a year makes...

Last year around this time I sank into the depths of depression from the loss of August; my un-thankful heart narrowed in with dread on my December due date and the loss of "Baby's first Christmas."

She was wanted and loved...I will never be the same.

This year as we celebrate the holidays with Bradley Joy, I am greatful that the burden of my sadness has been lifted; praise God from whom all blessings flow!