Previously Unreleased Mish-Mash

My head is in a fog today... So instead of rambling about nothing I have dug up a previously unpublished post from 4/28/07. Enjoy....

My Dearest Ava,

For nine months (ok, 38 weeks and 6 days) I gave up drinking wine and eating junkfood and my morning cup of coffee so that you would grow big and strong inside me. I drank water like it was a drug, I relaxed as much as possible, and I refrained from heavy lifting (except that one time I flipped the mattress, but it had to be done). I went religously to every prenatal appointment, took my vitamins, and kept my health in fine order. I didn't mind the sleepless nights that you kicked me, ever so relentlessly. I never looked forward to, but never dreaded, getting up to pee 8 times a night when you were doing headstands on my bladder.

When you were born, you came quickly and easily. You were perfect in every single way. Breastfeeding was like second nature to you. Before leaving the hospital, my little one, you had gained an ounce and I had blood blisters on my nipples. But that was ok... you were doing what you needed to, and I knew we'd have time to work
on our technique.

There were sleepless nights when all you did was nurse. Luckily, I learned how to lay down and feed you that way. There were days you just wanted to squeal and scream for no reason. That was fine too... I'd waited so long for you, I didn't care what noise you made as long as you were with me.

You've outgrown your tub, most of your clothes, 3 sizes of diapers, and my ability to carry you over long distances. My stomach is floppy, my boobs are longer than I desire, and my mind is cloudy even on the best of days.

You've learned to sit up, you can eat solid foods like a champ, and you are about a week away from crawling all over the house and terrorizing the cat.

So my only question for you, my dear daughter, is why- oh why- did you pick "dada" for your first word?