A Message From a Mom With a "Tiny" Baby

Last week in the grocery store a kind, sweet, older woman approached the stroller. She peered in and immediately grinned at my babbling, playful, daughter.

"Oh my!" she exclaimed, "What a darling little newborn!" 

Inside I both laughed and cringed. I knew what was coming next. 

"How old is she?"

"11 and a half months," I answered. 

I saw the smile partially fade and the woman tried to surpress her obvious surprise. Still, she then spoke the words that I have heard not less than 50 times over the last 11 months:

"She is so tiny." 

Look. I get it, seeing a baby that is tall and skinny instead of round and chubby like we see on tv can be surprising or new. I have received comments about Harper's size since the day she was born. Minutes after she was born the nurse exclaimed: "Oh wow. She looks like she was born at 35 weeks!" She was born small (below 5th percentile) and has remained small all her life. I don't neccessarily mind comments about her small frame. However, sometimes, I do mind the implications, the assumptions, and the comparisons.

There is this odd perception that fat babies are healthy and skinny babies are not. I have been asked, by strangers, if my baby is healthy, what is wrong with her, and yes, I have even been asked if I feed her. 

The truth is, her doctors have always been enamoured with her. Though she has consistently treaded the 0 to 5th percentile, developmentally she has been a rockstar. Although small, she has slept well and always maintained a happy, playful, and healthy demeanor, and has met all her milestones on time or ahead of schedule. (Note: even milestones are a tricky measurement of health, as all babies and kids meet milestones at different times. I am in no way saying that a baby that is a bit "delayed" according to the books is therefore unhealthy. What matters is the whole picture- growth, development, demenor, ect.) Harper's doctors have never been worried about her size. "Someone has to be in the 0 percentile or no one would be in the 50th or 90th percentile," they would tell me. 

Still. I have watched people's reactions when I tell them that what they expect to be a four month old baby is almost a one year old toddler. The brow furrows. The nose wrinkles. The puzzled expressions. 

And I would be lying if I said that it never bothers me. Sometimes, it just hurts. 

Sometimes it hurts when other moms proudly exclaim on photos of my daughter "Wow. My baby is so much bigger than her!" Sometimes it hurts when people ask me what's wrong with her or try to give me advice on how to feed her more. Sometimes I grow tired of constantly being reminded how small my baby is. I know. I have literally seen her every day of her entire life. 

I love my tiny baby. But it seems, for some reason, others prefer to see round, chubby, babies. And sometimes that sucks, given how hard Harper and I have both worked at making sure that she is nutritionally healthy and normal. 

So this is a message to any and all who might encounter a small baby and their parents:

Love on that tiny baby the way you would a chunky baby. Do not treat them differently or talk about them differently. Nibble their little toes and compliment mom on how beautiful and adorable baby is. Congratulate mom on a job well done for growing a human and continuing to nourish said human for the months following birth. Don't assume small means unhealthy or that mom doesn't know how to feed her kid. Have confidence that mom and doctor are both aware that baby is smaller than average and that if there is a problem, both are working on it and if there isn't: then baby is just genetically small or is small for no reason at all. (Hey. I am a poet and didn't know it). There is no need to comment on the size of someone else's baby's body. Babies are humans are come in all different shapes and sizes and a whole range of "normal." Don't compare. Would you tell a friend "Oh my gosh. You're so fat. My other friend is so skinny?" Or vice versa? 

I love my small, healthy, normal baby. 

Seriously. My back and arms are grateful. 

Harper's Birth Story

On Friday, August 15th, at about 9:00pm I started experiencing contractions. I had them before- but they were always mild, and always went away with changing my position, doing an activity, or resting. These were different- they came differently, felt different, and lasted no matter what I tried to do to make them stop. They weren't super close together, yet...about 15-20 minutes or so apart.

By early morning Saturday- and I mean early, like 3am or 4am -they were much more intense. They kept me awake and still didn't go away even after I got out of bed and cleaned the apartment. Around 6am I decided to call my mom. She had been planning on coming out to Utah for the birth and I wanted her to know things could be at least starting to get on their way. We talked about it for a bit and she decided to come out that same day- even if it would be days until Harper arrived.

A short time later, there was no mistake it- this was labor. Throughout the night and morning the contractions had grown closer together, had become more intense, and were lasting longer. At this point I was about 7-10 minutes apart. I had also experienced a labor symptom I wanted clarification on so I decided to contact the midwife on call.

The midwife told me to continue timing contractions and to try taking a bath to see if that would stop or slow them. I basically wanted her advice as to whether having my mom come that day would be a bad idea- I didn't want her to have to be here for a whole week or longer before baby came! She said to see if anything made the contractions go away and if not- it's probably safe to say a baby would be there within a couple of days.

The bath did nothing but to augment the contractions. They became much closer together and more intense. Now they were about 5 minutes apart. We called the midwives back and they told us to time them and let them know if we needed to go in.

Justin needed to work that day and since there was no guarantee I would actually have a baby on Saturday I told him to go and come home if I called and it got close. My mom was also on her way from San Diego and would be in Utah about 5pm.

Let me say- this was a terrible idea. Laboring alone is terrible. There's no one available for moral support or to help you breath or to physically lean on during labor- no daddy doula when you send daddy off to work. By 4:30pm on Saturday I was about done doing it alone. I was in pain. Enough laboring alone- I needed my rock! I asked him to come home and he did. The contractions at that point were putting me in tears, and I would even be in tears in between them because I knew the next one was around the corner.

My mom and Justin got to the apartment pretty close in time to one another. It was pretty intense. I could no longer walk or talk or do much of anything through them- when a wave hit, I needed to focus on it, focus on breathing and counting and visualizing. (btw. Hypnobirthing is pretty wonderful!). At this point contractions were a solid 5 minutes apart. We decided to wait until they were in the 3-5 minute range, even though we could have called the midwifes for a check right then.

At about 7:15pm on Saturday we called and met the midwives at the birthing center for them to take some vitals and do an exam to asses my progress.

It had to be pretty good, right? I mean 22 hours of pretty continuous contractions means something, right?

Wrong. I was 1 centimeter. And 50% effaced. What.the.heck. Women reach that WEEKS before their due dates and sometimes without experiencing a single contraction or even knowing they had progressed at all.

A 1? I was pretty upset. The last 22 hours had been hard. It wasn't easy working through those contractions.

We went home with the intent that I try to sleep. The problem is that when you're having contractions every 3-5 minutes it's really quite impossible to sleep. I barely got any- if I even got any! -sleep that night.

At 4am on Sunday the contractions were just really getting intense and strong. I was convulsing through them and I still hadn't slept. We called our midwives again and went in for another check.

A 4. 80% effaced. Okay cool. Progress. They went me home with more medications to try to help me sleep again.

Nothing worked. I tried to sleep. I tried. But nothing stopped the contractions- which were now 2-4 minutes apart. I couldn't sleep and the medicine wasn't helping. Even if I managed to doze off, I was woken up with no more than 10 minutes of rest.

At 8am I couldn't take it anymore so I just got out of bed. My mom was already awake and I started talking to her.

If I had labored from Friday at 9pm to Sunday at 4am (31 hours) and had only made minimal progress, what else would this journey entail?

I felt like I needed to ditch the birth center plan. I felt that I needed to walk into Timp Regional Hospital and be admitted, if for no other reason than to labor under the watchful eye of people who could help me find ways to tolerate the pain and help things along.

To be honest. I wanted the epidural. I wanted to sleep, and badly. I hadn't slept well on Friday night and I got virtually no sleep on Saturday. If I was going to progress at all, how was I going to handle 4 more centimeters before transition and 2 more centimeters after than, and THEN stand and find energy for pushing?

I thought getting an epidural would help me sleep. Then I could at least have the energy to do some more intense laboring. The epidural can wear off within a few hours, so even if I just needed a little rest- I could do the rest the way I had planned. Completely unaided with no medical interventions.

After talking to the midwives about whether they thought my line of thinking was even sane- I decided to do it.

We arrived at Timp Regional around 11am on Sunday morning. I had the epidural within 30 minutes. It.felt.amazing.

I didn't sleep still. At least not a lot or well. But being able to sit back, relax, and close my eyes gave me so much more energy. And I won't lie- not feeling contractions is wonderful.

"No Epidural" part of birth plan- History.  

At some point the doctor came in and said he wanted to break the bag of waters to augment labor. I really didn't want him to. But I had still only progressed to a 5 and the baby was low enough to where it wouldn't cause much risk to her to have it done- so we had it done.

"No Breaking of Waters" part of birth plan- History. 

On top of that, when the water broke there was thick muconium in the fluid. (That means the baby had a bowl movement in utero). That meant she would be taken by a NICU team as soon as she was out to avoid her aspirating the bowl movement into her lungs and stomach. That meant- no delayed cord clamping/cutting and no immediate skin to skin.

"Delayed Cord Clamping" part of birth plan- History. 

"Immediate Skin to Skin" part of birth plan- History. 

After that the nurse came in. Only still having progressed a couple centimeters they wanted to put me on Pitocin to make the contractions more frequent. They were strong enough, just not constant enough. (After a full bag of pitocin they still were ranging 2-4 minutes during pushing, which is not super great.)

"No Pitocin" part of birth plan- History. 

Finally I reached the 10 centimeter mark. Baby was facing my left side with her back to my right side so she wasn't perfectly anterior. The wants to wait and hour after I reached the 10 mark to see if baby would turn on her own to a better position. She also hadn't been able to thin part of the cervix so pushing at that stage would have caused a tear in the cervix- which just doesn't sound fun.

It finally came time to push. The hospital uses "directed pushing" as a technique. You breath in, hold your breath and push for 10 seconds, then breath again and repeat two more times. I hated the idea of being told when and how to push. I really wanted to breath down into my abdomen and follow my instincts on when and how to push. But truly- this wasn't something I was about to fight about, and I figured the nurse helping me at the beginning stages of pushing would be better able to help me in the way she had been trained.

"No Directed Pushing" part of birth plan- History.  

I was pushing for an hour and a half when the babies heart rate skyrocketed- and stayed there. Suddenly my room was flooded with people. The doctor, more nurses, a NICU team- all in gloves and hats and gowns and tables with equipment.

The doctor wanted to use forceps to guide the rest of the delivery. I was so worried. But he said- and the screen and monitor next to my head verified it- that the baby's heart rate was not coming down and that she needed to be out as soon as possible. I just wanted a safe baby.

"No Forceps/Vaccum" part of birth plan- History. 

Within about 5 or 6 more pushes the baby was out. She cried a deep cry right away and was whisked away. I didn't even get to see her face. That was the part that made me the saddest, but I knew she was in good hands.

After being stitched up, they handed me my baby. I was already bawling my eyes out looking at her from across the room. She was so perfect. Like breathing oxygen for the very first time. Like feeling weightless. Peaceful. And so much love I don't even know how to describe it. I said her name...

"Harper."

And she turned her little head, opened her eyes, and looked at me. She knew me. Just like I had known her far before she every got here. Far before I was every pregnant.

"Have a healthy baby" par of the birth plan- Perfected.

I didn't care that virtually every other part of my birth plan had been thrown out the window. THIS. This was the only moment that mattered to me. This was the peaceful birth I wanted. This was the empowerment I wanted. This was the memory I wanted. Her. In my arms. Safe. And looking at me with the same longing and yearning I had felt for her for so long. My baby. My daughter. And she was here. That's all that mattered.

Ultimately, we didn't get the out of hospital, low-intervention, birth we wanted. But there ended up being several good reasons for that.

First, the muconium. There was a lot of it. It was good to have a NICU team stand by so close who were able to keep out of the NICU. They fixed her so fast and so well that she has never left my side the whole time I've been at the hospital.

Second, the forceps. Yeah. It's crazy. But considered it took 50 and 1/2 hours from the first contractions to delivery- they were needed. Considering I was still not having frequent enough contractions during the pushing stage- it's an indicator my body needed help, not only in augmenting labor but in delivering as well. One of my sweet nurses (who were all amazing, by the way) came up and told me privately "The doctor said that if we hadn't used forceps, she would have become stuck under the pubic bone. I'm so glad that you were with us today." Clearly my baby needed the help and so did I .

Third, hemorrhaging. During delivery I lost close to 300ml of blood, which is actually quite low! But afterward...it kept coming. 600 more ml in a soaked pad. 400 more ml in a soaked pad. Blood clots the size of grapefruits. It wasn't good. The hemorrhage was classified as major. They ordered blood for a transfusion, put me on 4 different anti-hemorrhaging medications, 3 antibiotics, fluids, and pumped my epidural so the doctor could go in with a scraping tool and make sure there were no lacerations and nothing was left behind. Over the morning nurses were pushing on my belly every 5 minutes for hours on end to expel more and more blood clots.

Luckily, with that last part, the clotting stopped and things started to appear to be getting better. I didn't end up needing the transfusion.

Still, those three reasons are reasons I was glad to actually have thrown my birth plan out the window. I would have loved to have my natural, unmedicated, peaceful birth. Instead my labor and birth were crazy. But what I got out of it was far more important to me.

My perfect, sweet, Harper Noel. Healthy, happy, and strong. Beautiful and safely in my arms.

And to me, that's all that mattered.

Harper Noel Morse
Born: 11:34pm on August 16th, 2015.
6lbs 5oz, 18 inches.

Dear Harper- I Need to Tell You About Someone Special

Dear Harper Noel,

Well. We are expecting you at any moment now. We're not sure if you're hours or weeks away from making your beautiful debut into our lives and into our arms, but we know that you are close. I can't wait to meet you and kiss your beautiful fingers and snuggle your warm, beautiful, cheeks. We are so anxious to have you be here, you are so very well loved.

Before you make your arrival, there's one more person I need to tell you about.

This is a person who from my earliest memories was my best friend. He defended me against spiders, kids at the playground, and mean boyfriends. He played silly games with me, wasn't afraid to indulge in "sisterly" activities and always let me play with his matchbox cars and teenage mutant ninja turtle action figures. We always dragged each other into trouble but he was always great at helping getting me out of it.

He's my brother. Your uncle Ry Ry. Look at this stud.

A memory that stands out in my mind is a birthday party someone was having at Chuck-e-Cheese. I couldn't have been older than 4 or 5. I was playing in the play area and some little boy was being mean to me and throwing those little plastic balls at me. Enter older brother who quickly came to my defense at 5 or 6 years old himself.

Defender. It's a great way to describe your uncle. He protected me from people on more than one occasion. He listened to me when I was sad or hurting. He knew what to say and when to say it when things happened in life to make me feel down. He knows how to give great hugs. He protects those he loves with strength, loyalty, and valor. As a member of the Army, he did the same for strangers.

I know he will love you like crazy, I'm sure he already does! He will be silly with you. He will take you on adventures. He will teach you how to play jokes on mom. He will teach you about loyalty, hard work, compassion, and family.

Growing up with your uncle was fun. There were times we weren't so close, in distance or relation. I wish we hadn't missed that time. Because truly he's one of my favorite people in the world. He has such a wonderful, huge, heart. He's smart, funny, witty, and kind. He's passionate about the things and people he loves.

I can't wait to see you in your uncle's arms. I know he will protect you. Defend you. Teach you. Love you. Cherish you. Play dress-up with you. Have pretend tea-parties with you. Play sports with you. Teach you about cars and monster trucks and- of course -teenage mutant ninja turtles.

I probably won't act so happy when he teaches you how to play a practical joke and jump out of a closet to scare Mom, but deep down...I'll smile...because I know he'll be building memories with you. He'll be making you smile and laugh and bringing joy to your life. It's something I know I'll never be able to thank him enough for.

I hope that you have a brother like I did. Someone who you can share cherished memories with, laugh with, play with, grow close to. Someone who will defend you and stand up for you. Someone you will fight with and still love with all your heart. Someone who you can truly call a friend.

By the way, Uncle RyRy is about to marry a wonderfully talented, sweet, kind, funny, and wonderful woman named Alexandra who will be such an amazing aunty to you! She loves you too, and is so excited for you to come.

Well, my little one, now you know about mommy's parents and siblings. I couldn't have asked for a better family myself. I can't wait for you to become a part of theirs. They are all wonderful people who I couldn't be more thrilled about being part of your life. They each have something to teach you and to share with you. Watch them, listen to them, learn from them.

We all can't wait for you to be here.

With love,
Mommy

“There’s no other love like the love for a brother. There’s no other love like the love from a brother." -Unknown

“To the outside world we all grow old. But not to brothers and sisters. We know each other as we always were. We know each others' hearts. We share private family jokes. We remember family feuds and secrets, family griefs and joys. We live outside the touch of time." -Unknown

Full Term and a Lot of Catch Up

It's 37 weeks! That means I'm officially full term and baby would be healthy being born at any time now!

I haven't updated in almost a month. Things have been crazy with the bar exam; which for everyone's benefit is now OVER. It wasn't as awful as I thought in terms of material (although that's probably because I made stuff up a lot) or pregnancy. It was hard to sit for that long (about 7 hours a day) but it wasn't unbearable. Honestly, the studying part was way more tedious and annoying that the actual test. I'm sure that perception means I'll be taking the bar again in February, but hey...for now it's over.

Not a *lot* has happened in the last month. I've been pretty fatigued and even feeling kind of sick for awhile until a couple days ago. The last couple of days have actually been the best in my pregnancy. I feel like I have more energy back and less body aches and pain.

At 34 weeks during my check up, the midwife felt baby's position and exclaimed: "Woh! You're low! Stay in there baby!"

At 36 weeks an entirely different midwife said the same thing. So that's fun. Evidently Harper is just waiting for her cue, she's all ready to be here!

We are officially ready to have a baby. We have everything we need! We still need to pick up a car seat, but a member of Justin's family has so wonderfully and graciously offered to help us with that. Seriously, we are so blessed with our families who have provided so much help for us and have already doted on our baby girl.

I've definitely been anxious to clean lately. I hate cleaning. But now that the bar exam is over I'm actually genuinely excited to scrub floors and walls and counters. Seriously, it makes no sense. I also need to bug and spider hunt Harper's room and eliminate any threats. Yeah, I know. I'm crazy. But hey...I can't help the urge to make sure her room is 100% clean and safe.

I've really been craving churros lately, and the taco binge is back. 

Random things make me cry all the time these days. It's pretty fun.

Harper is crazy with her movements. I mean crazy. That girl makes Justin and me both feel like she's trying to make a break for it. There's less rolling and flipping now (well, none actually) but quite a bit of strong kicks and stretches. Watching her foot stick out near my ribcage is pretty fascinating.

My due day is in 3 weeks. 20 days. I'm meeting with my midwife every week now, and still everyone looks healthy and great. I've been so blessed to have such a healthy and uncomplicated pregnancy.

I have a feeling Harper will be early. But I'm trying not to tell myself that, because she could easily be 11 days late. It's just an instinct I have, but who knows, right? Harper is a little firecracker, who knows what she's up to!

Nesting Anxiety, Diaper Overload, and 33 Weeks

Today begins 33 weeks!

First, this week we had our 32 week appointment. Everything looked perfect and Harper is in the optimal, perfect, position to get ready for her entrance into this life. That was a huge sigh of relief, as its pretty unlikely that she'll flip or turn to much in the next 7 weeks or so.

Nesting took a turn this last week and a half or so. I had so much anxiety over having everything ready. We had stuff. But not everything. No bottles or towels or washcloths or pacifiers. It was the weirdest thing to cry over a dishwasher caddy to put bottles in- but cry I did. I couldn't help it.

Well, this week has been a big accomplishment. Through the help of friends and family we got many things we still needed. The rest of it Justin and I picked up ourselves and we are officially ready to go for whenever baby wants to get here. We spent the earlier part of the week putting our nursery furniture together and I'm working on doing laundry to wash all her clothes, towels, linens, ect. It's a lot of work but I can't even begin to explain how much more relaxed I feel. If Harper were born today I'd have a place for her to sleep, a way to feed her, a way to dress her, and a way to keep her clean. That is just awesome for me!

One of my happiest moments was ordering a plethora of cloth diapers. There was a good package deal on BumGenius Freetimes so I was able to pick up all the diapers I needed. The best part? They go from 8-35lbs, so they could even last us until or close to potty training. That's pretty stellar. We will still keep disposables on hand for travel and the like, but I'm so excited about the prospect of cloth diapering. It's good on the wallet, it's good for the environment, and its good for little baby tooshies. And. It's cute. Oh so cute. I can't believe how happy and excited I am for something my kid is going to poop in.

The baby shower on Saturday was beautiful! I'm so grateful for the family and friends who were able to make it and those who sent their thoughts and gifts even if they weren't. The best part of the whole thing was seeing how many people are going to love and support my daughter. She's so lucky to be born into such a wonderful extended family made up of blood and non-blood aunts, uncles, and grandparents.

Also. The tdap hurts. Not the shot. But dang my arm was sore after I got it!

On another note, we found a pediatrician! We got along great with him during our consultation and were on board with his general practices and approach to medicine. It's such a blessing to have found someone we trust.

That's it for this week. One more month until I'm considered full-term.

Also. Next month, I'll have a baby. NEXT MONTH!


Overview This Week:

The Bump: Big. And it dropped. I'm definitely carrying lower than I was before. Also...its true. Belly buttons can/do transform into outies during pregnancy.

Symptoms: Carpal tunnel!! Backaches. Sore hips. Some heartburn (but it's better!). Lots of movement from Harper. I love every second of it!

Cravings: BBQ.

Aversions: Eggs. Bacon. Anything pork-related. Gross.

Looking Forward To: Finishing decorating the nursery and holding my baby girl!

32 Weeks- 2D/3D Ultrasound Session

She kept pursing her lips and blowing us kisses!

Lips pursed again. :)

To Harper- On Father's Day

Dear Harper Noel,

Today is Father's Day! It's the day of the year where we celebrate fathers in all their forms- dads, uncles, brothers, religious leaders, grandfathers- anyone who influences you and inspires you.

I want to tell you about my dad, your papa.

We have a very special bond. There's something about a relationship between a father and his daughter that can be really beautiful. Not everyone is as lucky as I am, but my dad has always and does make efforts to be a positive, strong, influence in my life. He is my role model, my protector, my inspiration, and my friend.

Growing up he gave me confidence, encouragement, support, and guidance. As a kid he worked hard to make sure your uncle and I never went without. We always had provision. We always knew where our next meal was coming from and that we'd have shoes to wear to school.

My dad was more than that, though. He always encouraged me to reach my full potential. He always would tell me I was meant for great things and he would encourage me to do everything I could to become the best person I could become. He taught me the importance of education and career, but also the importance of family.

The best thing he taught me was in how I watched him treat my mom. He loves her unconditionally. He finds joy in things that bring her happiness and sadness in things that make her weep. He tells her she's beautiful. He tells her he loves her. He laughs with her and makes her laugh. He's always been in love with her, and after nearly 30 years of marriage he's still in love with her. The way he looks at her says it all- he respects her, honors her, and cherishes her.

Just like he does for me. Just like he'll do for you.

I remember precious moments of sitting on my dad's lap, head in his chest. I remember father-daughter dances- he would always take me out for ice cream after and it would always get all over my face. I remember when he would come home from deployments and would embrace my brother and me in his arms. He always brought gifts. And when he was away he always sent some to remind us he was thinking of us. I still have the stuffed camel and alligator he brought back from Australia. Even though these are just "things" they remind me of his love for us.

I think about the day I will see him hold you. The day I watch you climb into his lap and ask him to braid your hair. The day he will hold your hand as you lead him to the playroom for a tea party. The day he dances with you at your wedding. I think about the way he already loves you and it makes my heart warm. I couldn't pick a better father for myself, and I could never pick a better papa for my little girl.

One thing I love about your daddy is that he is, in so many ways, just like your papa. The first time he told me that he loved me I saw him look at me the way my dad looks at my mom. I see in Daddy the same patience, love, respect, and sacrifice that I grew up with. I find the same encouragement and support to be all I can be, the same encouragement to see my dreams come true. I see the same faith for a Father in heaven and the same love for a Savior. I find the same eagerness to learn about Him, to pray, to seek Him, to follow Him.

Your Daddy is a special man.

He sacrifices unceasingly and without complaint or second thought.

He loves unconditionally.

He is intelligent and wise.

He prays for you already and sings you lullabies and tells you stories.

He is perfect for me in every way.

He is passionate, yet helps create peace in difficult times.

I am so eager to see you build the same memories with your daddy that I have built with mine. I can't wait for the day that he will teach you how to pray. The day that he will teach you how to ride a bike and throw a football. I can imagine him holding you if you are sad, scared, or sick...or just because he wants to be close to you. I can see him kissing you, hugging you, and taking you on special daddy-daughter dates. I look forward to the day that he will dance with you at your wedding. Your papa actually said at Mommy and Daddy's wedding that he hoped we had you one day, so that Daddy would know how it feels to dance with your daughter at her wedding.

There are so many things to look forward to with both of these men. I can't wait for them to see you, to hold you, to fall in love with you. I know with them in your life you will always be encouraged, protected and provided for.

I love you. Your meemaw, papa, and Daddy love you. We can't wait to see you and to hold you.

All my love,
Mommy