There’s so much to catch up on. A whole year. So I needn’t feel bad spamming you with pictures.

I came across this one today of James and it took my breath away. Naturally, for the newness. His weeks old little teeny tiny self. I think that’s why we’re all so drawn to babies — they’re fresh bait. Straight out the shoot.

They’re still connected. We feel their pure positive energy. We are helplessly pulled into their vortex of perfection.

I had a very difficult time the first few months with James. Post partum, for me at least, is brutal. Spirit crushing.

I seriously feel like I have PTSD just thinking about it. I say that as my heart is racing and I’m starting to sweat. I want to forget it all ever happened, yet I don’t want to wish my baby memories away.

Two separate things.

At six weeks, James had gained 7 ounces. He was 5.12 at birth and 5.2 when we left the hospital. He had eating issues out the gate — more on that later. Things seemed fine — he gained half an ounce very early on in those first few days, right on target.

Then he fell off the chart. LIke way off. He was in premie sized diapers for two months if that tells you anything.

This picture reminds me how far we have come. How lucky I am to have two healthy, thriving children. I never want to take that for granted.

Ever.