my one year old love bug.

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It’s hard to believe that 1 year ago my little love bug was born.

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It has been the best year of our lives. So different. So crazy. So sleepless. But more love than I could ever imagine and more joy that I could ever describe. More happiness. More laughter. More fun. More wonderful. Just the most and best and favorite. He’s just absolutely the best thing in the world.

1 month. 

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2 months. 

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3 months. 

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4 months. 

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5 months. 

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6 months.

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7 months. 

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8 months. 

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9 months. 

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10 months. 

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11 months. 

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12 months. 

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Slow down Time. You are not welcome here.

I’ve come to catch myself crying over the idea of him growing up. I want to squish his little cheeks, feel his hands wound up in my clothes, and kiss his tiny toes forever. I love the smell of his soft, downy hair after a bath. I love rubbing his little belly and hearing his precious baby laugh. I love watching him explore and learn. I love cuddling him. I love rocking him to sleep. I love the glow of his big blue eyes at 4am. I love everything about him.

He’s the best thing that ever happened to me.

When I prayed for him by name before I even was pregnant, I could feel his presence. I used to tell Ben I felt my heart grieving for the baby I knew I was supposed to have.

Now, everyday, I sing songs of praise, laugh with my little dude, and try to take in every inch, every grin, every memory. I hate when people tell me, “Just you wait until this or that or whatever”. I can wait; I like this moment. I like the everyday normal stuff. The feeding him waffles and watching him laugh as he tosses them to Ruby moments. I like the sitting on the floor and he crawls to my lap and we snuggle and play. I like the moments where I get to explore his little face and look in his little eyes.

12 months.

My heart has grown in ways I never knew possible. I wish I could go back in time and give my infertile self a hug and tell her to just wait. Joy is just around the corner. His name is Sam.

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