One year ago we were just finding out I was pregnant. Suddenly, the waiting and the struggles turned into promise.
Nick and I were at Firefly Music Festival, camping out with thousands of rowdy teenagers. With every weed-tinged breath, my thoughts went to the tiny speck of life I now had growing in me. I was pregnant. The weight of that hit me. The responsibility I had for my tiny embryo was made especially real when I looked at the youngins around us. I was pregnant. I wasn't blissful, I was fearful and already protective of the potential little human we'd started. I was pregnant. I lay awake in the wee hours, cursing the carousers stumbling by our tent, Cursing my already crowded bladder, dreaming of the future. I had no idea what the next weeks and months would hold, how proudly I would watch my belly grow and how powerfully and beautifully you would enter the world.
I was pregnant with you, my beautiful boy. You are now nestled beside me in bed and I can take a moment to enjoy the wonder that is you, and marvel at how you've transformed our lives in the last year.
I recently found out that one of my close friends from high school is pregnant. It's hard to be 100% positive about new parenthood, but I was so, so happy for her to get to experience all of this.