Maybe it’s the mid-cycle hormones, or all the pictures of friends’ new babies, but I find myself craving that newborn smell and the way a teeny baby fits into the crook of my arm. I haven’t forgotten how hard those first few months were, and I adore this age – all the amazing milestones, the personality, the new experiences that happen between 6 and 12 months – but as No2′s first birthday quickly approaches, I find myself increasingly nostalgic for her first few days and weeks.
Wife, mommy, music teacher, lover of books. Dabbles in parenthood. New england yuppy + southern girl hybrid. PPD survivor. Anxiety battler. Kicked antenatal depression's ass. Currently medicated. Who isn't?
