I have watched my two older boys hit milestone after milestone and couldn't be more proud. Birthdays have come and gone, school's started, bikes conquered, and I faced each with a smile and pure joy. No tears.. not one. I always wondered if there was something wrong with me. I didn't even cry when they were born for goodness sake. I know that crying doesn't mean you care more… I just never understood the blubbering parent as the nurse handed them their tiny human or sobbed as they watched their child walk into their first day of school. Enter my Ariana Jo. She broke me. When my baby girl was first born at 34 weeks it was a rough birth. My flight to my dream vacation went crashing down. Meaning my epidural failed me when I hit a 6. I like to think of epidurals as a nice little spa date. You get to finally enjoy a piece of your third trimester and be waited on hand and foot. Not giving a crap about who walks in and out that door. You are COMFORTABLE. Nuff said. Having a baby natural was not my plan. Maybe it would have been different had I been anticipating the fury that was about to be unleashed on my lower region. Have you ever had a bowling ball boulder its way through your pelvic bone? I have. And she was beautiful. After a bunch of "OH MY FREAKIN HECKS", (Yes I literally yelled that multiple times. True blue Mormon here folks) and one push she was here. They handed her to me and I bawled. I'm talking like..snot dripping, can't get a word out, bawling. People were calling me and I couldn't even calm down enough to take the phone. She had taken my "keep cool" world and blown it to smithereens. She topped me off and my cup was overflowing. She has had this affect on me ever since that day. Fast forward to now, my sweet baby girl that I feel has been with me for much longer than a year, is turning one this week and I am struggling. I don't know if it is because she is my last child, or because every time I look at those piercing blue eyes I see a tiny me. I have found myself doing daily life happenings and I'll start to feel the waterworks coming. The near thought of her turning one sends me into a emotional wreck. What happened to me? I made it just fine through two other 1st birthdays. Why is this crippling me as she reaches her 1 year mark? My baby is growing up and there is nothing I can do about it. It's a funny thing to be closing the baby chapter. Of course we will have fun with the new ones, but to think that I will never have the rush of heading to the hospital as I know it's time to meet my child is weird. It's hard to wrap my head around it. And to be quite honest, it's hard to close this chapter. But I know that 3 is our magic number and that 4 would turn me into a bat S#!@ crazy mother. Sometimes I already feel like that now. This little miss is having an Audrey Hepburn party for her big day. Stay tuned for that post probably next week. I went overboard on her party... It's in my blood. When I turned 10 my mother had a maypole at my party and crowned me as princess Sheena. What do ya do :)
Headband// DIY
Bracelet// DIY
Gray Ruffle Tee// Crazy 8
Boyfriend Jeans// H&M
White Sandals// Walmart
-Sheena
