Peach Puff ‘s 9 months!
🌷Evie has gone through so many developmental changs these past months. Rolling, sitting up, clapping, trying new foods, overnights with her grandparents, endless movements and babbling. She seems like a different baby every week. With all the doctor appointmentss, chaos, solo parenting, life changes and stresses, working full time, sometimes it feels like we’ve lived fifty years in these past nine months. Most of the time, these nine months feel like they’ve disappeared in the blink of an eye.
I was scrolling through videos and pictures of Evie as a newborn. It made me so sad. I was in such a sleepless haze at that time, many of those memories only get jogged if I look at pictures. She was so tiny. So fragile. So dependent. Now she feels so independent. She goes to school! She has her food (and people) preferences. She can play with her toys by herself, and she has her own opinions about all things in life.
At nine months, it feels like she’s going to be one before we know it. On the one hand, it makes me so sad that her infancy is slowing coming to an end. On the other, I am so grateful she is so healthy, so adaptable, so happy. I love how much she loves us, and she shows it. I love that she squeals in happiness when I pick her up from daycare. I love how much joy she brings our family. I am so thankful for all the healing she has provided.
For many years, the end of August only felt like a dark cloud. On August 19, 2017, we suddenly lost my grandfather; exactly 5 years later, we lost our son. Then, this same day, in 2024, was the due date for our second embryo transfer. This week will always be fraught with emotion for me. It puts me in a weird mental spot. I remember every moment of the day we went to the doctor for a routine pregnancy check-up. I remember what I was wearing, going to the paint store to pick up nursey paint samples and supplies; I remember the feeling and sound of the paper under me as medical professional after medical professional came into the room to find a heartbeat. I remember, when the first nurse couldn’t find a heartbeat, Phil saying “everything would be okay,” the nurse saying, “sometimes they like to hide,” and then both their reactions when the doctor was also unable to find his heartbeat. The travel to the other hospital for “confirmation.” The endless crying and hysteria. My parents and brother coming over. I’m getting choked up writing this. These are the second most vivid memories of my life. The first are the day our daughter was born.
The end of August will forever bring a host of emotions and memories. I will never fully recover from losing our son, but the ironic thing is, without that day in August, we wouldn’t have our perfect nine-month-old to celebrate this week.🌷
