One month

What a difference a month makes.

Four weeks ago today I was very grumpy, very pregnant, and relatively certain my pregnancy was a permanent condition (which I think every woman starts wondering somewhere around 39 weeks).

(grumpy? yes.)

I was particularly irritable toward people who suggested I eat at a certain restaurant, see a certain movie or dance a particular jig to get labor going. You know why? Because I tried all that, and David stayed put through multiple looong walks, ethnic dinners and a full moon. Lesson: babies come when they’re ready. I digress.

Four weeks ago was the Grand Finale of a ministry called Track Club (as you can tell from my non-41-week pregnant physique, these photos are from last year’s GF). Track Club is a running ministry with kids from Nottingham Green through West End Presbyterian Church. It’s one of my favorite activities all year, so after my due date came and went, it was the one silver lining, “well, at least I’ll be able to go to the finale…”

The next morning (at 4:30am, to be exact), David started making his move.

…and at 6:39pm we finally met this little guy.

And now he’s a full month old. I’m tempted to say, “Wow! A month really flew!” But in all honesty, when I think back to all the natural disasters and power outages (and, ahem, sleepless nights), it sorta does feel like four whole weeks (don’t get me wrong, they’ve been four great weeks, but four weeks nonetheless).

One thing Tom and I both love is seeing David change. It’s incredible to see his little personality starting to take shape. Plus, I can totally tell he’s growing. It’s so bizarre when his outfits don’t fit from one day to the next. My back has been hurting from picking him up 50293587239 times a day, which doesn’t really bode well because I hear babies just keep getting bigger and bigger.

But for now, we’re enjoying our one-month old.