Stephanie is a friend, a fellow blogger, and a sweet-hearted wife that I had the pleasure of meeting through the internet world. We were "online buds" for a while until we finally met in person and became "real life buds". She is gonna make one hip mama... someday.

Hello Momfish Readers! I'm super excited to have been asked to guest blog here by my wonderful friend and creator of this new website- Kalen. The topic that I want to share my thoughts with you on is a seemingly controversial one. One that has sort of shocked our friends and family. One that has even raised the eyebrows of a few strangers who've inquired about it. Are you intrigued? Good!

But first of all, let me introduce myself. My name is Stephanie and I blog over at Take-Hart. I'm 23 and I live in Kentucky with my husband Nate, who I am excited to say that I will have shared one whole year of marriage with this coming June! Marriage has been wonderful to us so far but (as to be expected) it's also been a little trying at times. Neither of us have ever lived out on our own, not to mention we built a brand new house right before we got married. So we sort of jumped into a lot of financial responsibility very quickly. Which kind of brings me to what I want to talk about...


In my memory it seems like almost immediately after Nate & I got engaged that the questioning began. And once we were married- we were pretty much bombarded. When are you going to have a baby? How many do you want? Do you want them close together? What are your thoughts on breastfeeding?! Okay. I'm exaggerating. But still, when we told everyone that we wanted to wait 4 or 5 years to have our first and possibly only baby- there was usually a pause and then a, “Really? .. Why?” And then followed by that usually some sort of remark about how we will totally change our minds. And who am I to say that we wont? But right now, this is our reasoning.

The first reason: finances. We both have very good and stable jobs but with a brand new house payment, car payments, and all of the other big bills that are so completely new to us– there is little room for error in our budget. Could we afford to have a baby right now? Yes, we could. Would we have to cut out doing pretty much anything and everything else that we enjoy doing? For sure! And I don't want that to be the case when we do decide to have a baby. Obviously things will change on what we can spend on basically everything no matter what, but if one of us misses a few days of work right now due to being sick or something we can always feel the financial stress. So I can't imagine what that would feel like if we added a baby to the mix. Not to mention, I would love to have the option to stay home with our new bundle of joy if I so desired- something that would just not be feasible at this point in time.

Secondly, we want to do things! This sounds selfish but really, it isn't selfish at all. We want to travel a little bit, take small trips with friends, etc. Granted, I don't think that if we had a baby right now that we would feel so horribly tied down and regretful that we didn't get to do a, b, and c before we had kids- BUT – we know that there are things that we do want to do so why not wait a little while and do a few of them?

Another reason: friends. Now, don't get me wrong here. I don't believe that you should worry about anyone but yourself and what you feel is right for you and your own family. But, the thought of being that far ahead of a lot of the people that we spend time with is honestly a little daunting. I'm the kind of girl that likes support and I like to be able to experience things with other people. And I've seen a lot of new mommas out there feeling alone and wishing for more mommy friends because they're now in a completely different chapter of their lives than the friends that they used to spend all of their time with. Which makes complete sense. It's not that having a baby should ruin your friendship with those who aren't parents but it's a big change in priorities and naturally that is going to make a difference. So, I'm hoping by the time that we really start wanting a baby that we have a few more friends that have settled a little bit! If it doesn't happen, it doesn't. But I can always hope!


Proof that we love our Nieces and Nephews aka Other People's Children ;] .. this is old, don't judge our hair.

Lastly, we're still learning about love. Nate and I have been together since 2006 and we are still discovering new things about each other every day. We are still learning how to be selfless with one another and to support each other. I'd say we've learned more about how exactly the other person needs to be cared for in our first few months of marriage than we learned the whole time we were dating. Sometimes it's been really dramatic, but we've come out on the other side of our little arguments/discussions with understanding for next time and not just with the fuel for the next argument. I've learned more about communication vs. “please read my mind and if you don't know what I need I'm going to make you suffer” (that's us ladies!) And he's learned how to be compassionate even when he can't completely understand what's bothering me vs. probing me and telling me to just cheer up already. I feel like we still have a lot to learn though and I'd like to give us time to do that before we try to take on parenting! We're just now figuring out how to take care of each other, ya know?

So, there's my two cents! I'm so completely amazed by the Momma's/couples that have gone straight into parenting after marriage. But I hope that maybe more people will start to see that it's not the only next step and that waiting a while doesn't mean you're not ready or you couldn't do it- but just that you want to take care of yourself and your marriage first so that you can be able to give a hundred percent to your baby when the time comes.

(Now watch me be all, “SURPRISE! I'm pregnant!” in 3 months because I just can't take not having my own Everly with my own cute little cheeks to munch on. And I'll be all, “Sorry ya'll I know my opinion is a big fat fail but it's all Kalen's fault!” .. but until then!)

As mothers, we are supposed to brag about our children. In the "old days" (like 10 years ago) moms would keep a few pictures of their babies on their desks at work, maybe a couple in their purse, and if they were really crazy they would tape a small one somewhere on their dashboard in the car. Maybe they'd have a few on their cellphone, or email some out sometimes to friends. That was about the extent of it.

Enter social networking - Types of Parents on Facebook.

Gone are the days of snail-mailing a picture to the baby's grandma who lives hundreds of miles away (it took me months to do this with Everly!) because why buy postage and make a trip to the post office with a new baby when people can instantly see what she's up to 24/7? Because there are some cute seasonal stamps?

Dear Grandma,
Everly is 6 months old. She can roll over and laugh.
She's so big and happy! She loves to eat carrots.
We miss you and love you. Here are 3 pictures.
Love, Us

So before I had kids, I'm going to have to tell you that I got kind of annoyed when all moms posted about was their children. If they had their baby as their profile picture, I was tempted to unfriend them. When they talked about what their baby was eating, how they were sleeping, the cute new trick they learned... I kinda rolled my eyes and passed over it. "Why do they think I care about that?" I'd think to myself, and then stick up a status update about how I was going to go to the movies & then friends were coming over to stay the night.

Fast-forward to pregnancy. I updated about every symptom I was having. Every doctor's appointment. Every movement. It was as if my mind completely forgot about the days where I was annoyed by baby fever, and instead I jumped in headfirst and felt like everyone wanted to know what was up with my growing belly. Newflash: They didn't. But I have good friends (and family) so they always tried to remain enthusiastic. They were probably trying to figure out how many different ways someone can tell you that an ultrasound that looks like an alien blob is magnificently fascinating.

I also did the (common) thing first-time pregnant women do where you take a picture of your belly every week or so and show it off. I love that I thought I was showing before I was even pregnant, basically. Here's a jewel:



I thought I was huge. I remember "waddling" when I walked to & from my car. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH. Why do first time pregnant mamas do this? Because we love it. And apparently, we are going to force you to pay attention to us.

So yes. Everyone put up with my crap through my pregnancy, and they tried to stay relatively excited for me.

And then came the Everly announcement and it was all over. I caught the feva. I was possessed!



My personal Twitter was themed with baby-related posts. Once again people indulged me, but this was what they were tweeting in their heads:

@kalen Shut up. I don't care about bottle nipples. I care about drinking margaritas and cool clothes.

It is okay, friends. I was there once. I understand.

These days, I upload about 5,000 photos of Everly every other day. I try to stop myself, but it's almost impossible. It allows the people who care to watch her grow up... and the people who don't care continue to try to think of why they ever became friends with me in the first place. :)

And I'm sorry! I really am! It's just... impossible not to talk about our baby. Because she's beautiful & funny & sweet & changes every day and... see? I don't really do anything but take care of her right now, so if I did post any non-baby related updates, they'd be made up... now there's an idea.

Going to South America. No plan. Just taking a backpack and $500. See you guys later! I'll take pictures!

Oh they just asked me to be an extra on The Office. I guess I'll do it if I am done skydiving and swimming with sharks in time.

So here is my admission.

I am an annoying Facebook Mom, filling your news feed with pictures and facts about my daughter. Be strong, my faithful friends, in about 18 years maybe it will slow down.

Are you one of those moms? Come join the message board and meet other pregnant and mothering mamas who might actually hold a shred of interest in discussing every waking moment of your baby's life (and they'll probably compete with you secretly, too).

Everly woke up early this morning. Sometimes I swear I think she knows when I'm awake. I had got up an hour earlier than usual to have some "alone time" and so I guess she decided to do the same? Even though she hasn't got up that early since a month or so ago? She took an early nap that only lasted an hour instead of two... another not-so-common thing... well not in the last month. When it was time for her 2nd bottle, I was so tired that I propped her in bed beside me while I fed her, and closed my eyes and listened to her noises. Her lips smacked against her bottle and she stuck her tiny fingers all over my face while she ate. She let milk run down the corners of her mouth when she got bored, kicked her feet at our dog, and babbled when she took breaks.

Afterwards, she rolled around on the bed all over me, cuddling me and kissing and cooing. Everly isn't a particularly cuddly baby, so it was a pleasant change of pace. She let me hold her hands, whisper in her little ears how much I love her (she liked when I was calling her a "poopy butt" better, though) and she nuzzled me sweetly.

There are lots of hard things about having a baby. The fogginess the week after they're born, where you feel exhausted and confused. The anxiety when they won't stop crying and you have no idea what's wrong. The time it takes to load up a bag to go somewhere, even just down the street. The lack of sleep. The emotional intensity of loving something so much. The spit-up. The leaky diapers. The first cold. The financial costs. The lack of freedom. The worry. Oh goodness, the worry!

But moments like this morning, when I was stressing over life situations and tired from my newly acquired insomnia and my baby knew that I needed her to be awake when I was... to distract me. She knew she needed to sleep less and play with me more... to cuddle me gently and give me milky kisses while she screamed into my cheek, because those moments are medicinal. I know you can picture it in your head and think, "Awww that's cute!" but that's not what I mean at all. It is cute, yes, but it's something more than that. It's a connection that is so deeply rooted that even my horrible mood can't keep me from smiling and feeling all warm and gooey inside. Paper hearts and unicorns! (But it's true)

Babies are hard work. But they are also the most refreshing, hilarious, wonderful little creatures to have around when you need them. They help alleviate pain, that's for sure.

So take two doses and call me in the morning.

There I was, hand shoved deep in the store freezer, reaching for some Morningstar Veggie Chik'N Nuggets (nom). That's when I heard it:

"MOM! He hit me!!!! Owwwww!!!!"

I briefly looked up to see a young girl, about 7 or 8, with her hand cupping her opposite shoulder. "He hit me again!!!" she whined, obviously annoyed and hurt.

Nothing unusual about that scenario. So I look back, pull my box out of the freezer, and place it in my cart.

And then it happened.

The mom grabbed the boy (about 10-12) by the collar of his jacket, pulled him close, and loudly yelled in his face:

"If you do that again, I am going to embarass you in front of EVERYONE! SHUT UP!" and then she let go of his jacket, rolled her eyes, and the young boy hung his head, scared and ashamed.

I was shocked and disgusted. So were the people around me.

Do I think that crosses the line? Absolutely. Do I think the woman had probably had a very long day with rowdy kids? Most likely. Is there any excuse for an adult to threaten a child with embarassment, while yelling in their face and harshly grabbing them?

No. No. No. No.

This isn't effective. And what's even more frustrating is that the tired, probably over-worked mother thinks she is getting the result she wants because the boy is most likely going to stop out of fear. The problem is that even though the behavior may cease, what emotional issues might she be causing by threatening him, belittling him, yelling at him, and embarrassing him? What message is she sending about hitting or touching other people if she's grabbing him herself and pushing him around? What type of relationship will he have with her? As parents, should we be feared or should we be respected?

We should be careful not to mistake fear for respect. A common example I use is that you can get a dog to stop chewing on your shoes by beating it. It will learn to fear you and your response, so it will stop chewing on your shoes. But does the dog respect you? Will it be loyal? Is it loved and will it love you? Will the dog show issues of anxiety and nervousness? Will it go on to be a happy dog?

Did I just spend an entire paragraph somewhat comparing a child to a dog?

But really. There is a lot of room for creativity and differences in parenting. Not everyone is going to do it the same and shouldn't. But if we begin accepting other parents acting this way we will see a continued cycle of anxiety and behavioral issues in these children when they become adolescents (or even before). And then we will call them awful kids and blow them off thinking they're just a bad seed.

How do we stop this type of parenting behavior?

How would you have responded to that woman? Do you think what she was doing was abuse? What do you think I did?

Come discuss on the message board.

Tiffany is a licensed counselor in Lexington, Kentucky, working with children and their families. I went to school with her and have seen her do play therapy in person, and she's not only a talented clinician, but an amazingly hard-working mama. She is passionate about her faith and her family. Here she shares some insight about growing into her confidence as a mom.

I looked into the eyes of my beautiful new-born baby girl with all the wonder and excitement I could muster. That is how every new mother should feel right? But whom am I kidding? Really I looked into those big blue eyes asking her, “What do I do with you now? How do I make you laugh, and smile? What do we do to have fun?" To be honest with you I expected her to answer. I knew I wanted nothing more in this world than to make her laugh, and inspire her.

This would be a life long adventure for the 3 of us. I knew if I stressed over being a “perfect” mom it would greatly affect my marriage and ultimately my relationship with a perfect gift, my daughter. I simply needed to be the best mom I could be - good enough - and love her with everything in me. This balancing act was going to be the most important one of my life.

Relationships are something I've always valued. My husband is my best friend and we had added a baby girl to this equation, and I knew it was the most important relationship I would ever have. I wanted a relationship with my daughter that was fun and unique and playful.

So I did what my daughter did and she did what I did.

If she was doing tummy time, so was I. Laying in the floor playing with her toys, telling stories and singing songs. When I showered, she was there with me, literally in the shower. We went somewhere together almost every day. And “no,” was not a word that was or would be used in our house. Our house was a safe place for exploring, it was a safe place to be silly and be fun and we did.



I quickly became less scared, and looked at the world the way my daughter did with curiosity, excitement and wonder, and then my fear of messing up vanished. I no longer stressed over having it all right and all together, and simply did what felt right. I listened to my body, and more than that I listened to my daughter. I did not stress over screams and tears or dirty bottles.

I fell madly, passionately in love with my daughter. I let go of questions and realized that quicker than I wanted these days would pass, she would be walking and eventually even dating. When those times come, I want her to know that I will unconditionally forever be her mom and best friend.

You should know that I'm not very patient. So as you can guess, when I logged on this morning to view Momfish and there weren't 2,000 users registered on the message board and 90,000 new comments on my posts - I knew I was doomed for failure.

Non-related Interjection time:

mel·o·dra·mat·ic?- adjective
[mel-uh-druh-mat-ik]
exaggerated and emotional or sentimental; sensational or sensationalized; overdramatic.

...Lalalala.

So. I worked on the forum after Everly's morning bottle, but it wasn't very productive because now that she can roll all the heck around everywhere, she likes to roll over toward me and try to lick my feet and chew on my pants leg. What I realized is that basically my forum looks like a 15 year old created it right now. My 15 year old self used to actually run a forum that had hundreds of members... and I wanted to tap into that energy & try to remember what made it successful. Then I realized it was partly because I flirted with nerdy internet guys and said lots of stupid stuff, which was attractive for people who also watched train wrecks in their spare time. Alas. <- Is that how you're supposed to use the word alas?

Anyway. One of my plans is upgrading the message board when I reach 50 users to a paid forum software that is much cleaner, more professional-looking, and FUNNER. Until then, I have to try and market myself with what I've got. Basically if I were a lemonade stand, I'd be the one with lemons that had brown spots & I'd be painting my nails and ignoring people & using water from the garden hose and charging way too much. And when I didn't make $1,000 at the end of the day, I'd be like, "Dude. WHAT?!? Why????"

So this is me... humbly asking for you to bluntly make suggestions on anything around this blog or on the message board that you think will help me attract mamas and mamas-to-be. I've gotta get that member count to 50, and I need your help! Just tell me what will keep you individually coming back.

This morning my husband ate a spoonful of peanut butter because we are out of groceries. Since I hate getting groceries, I considered this unfortunate but not too extreme, especially knowing that we have waffles left in the freezer. You don't get any sympathy from me about not having groceries until you've consumed the "strays" which usually include a couple of yogurt cups,  a can of baked beans, leftover lunch meat cleverly rolled up with condiments, and the random bags of frozen vegetables.

What can I say? I'm hardcore.

So for lunch we ordered Chinese food for delivery. We got a serving of sesame chicken, fried vegetable rice, and eggrolls for $15 including tax at the place up the street. We put Everly in her highchair with her straw sippy full of formula & started ravishing our plates. After we were finished, we both cracked open our fortune cookies and read our slips of paper separately. Billy showed me his and then tossed it into the sugary sauce that was left on his plate and started cleaning up. I showed him mine and he laughed and continued scraping his plate.

"Poverty is not a disgrace," I repeated to myself. I always get the dumbest fortunes. They never seem to carry a deep meaning, and that's torture for a romantic like me. I shoveled a spoonful of rice into my mouth and stared out our back doors, thinking. There had to be some reason I got stuck with the fortune. After all... these cookies are magical and life changing and each one chooses it's owner, you know.

Poverty is not a disgrace. Poverty is not a disgrace. Make the connection, Kalen.

And it hit me. Hard.

The past couple of months, I have felt like I was in a bit of a tug-of-war with choices I've made as a mother. I sit at home most days, wiping dirty hands and kissing sticky cheeks. My Masters degree sits on a bookshelf, currently underneath some of Everly's favorite books: Suppertime for Frieda Fuzzypaws and Meeow and the Little Chairs. I looked down at my t-shirt, one I "adopted" from Billy's college days. My pants were an on-sale buy at JcPenney. I looked around the kitchen. A lot of my decor had come from Walmart... Target... Dollar General. I've just not been willing to spend a lot of money on better things, even though I'm starting to realize that buying cheap doesn't necessarily save money. I thought about the people I graduated with. They're doing private practice... case work... counseling at agencies. The most counseling I'm doing is tracking my daughter's play, which causes her to stare at me with a wrinkled brow.

The truth is... I have been struggling with letting go of my professional identity temporarily, while I focus on my personal identity as a mother. And the choice I have made to stay at home with Everly has put Billy and I in a position where we can't really enjoy what we could if I was working. We could have a bigger house. A garage. A fenced-in yard. You know... all the "finer things" in life. I mean, we don't struggle to keep our heads above water because we live modestly, and I certainly wouldn't ever refer to us as being impoverished financially... but the meaning of the fortune wasn't that literal, anyway

It was my resassurance... from whoever I felt like I needed it from.

When classmates had shared their occupational successes, I had felt excluded. When cruising the aisles of Target in a spit-up covered t-shirt and unbrushed hair, I had felt no esteem. When I'd have an argument with my husband about feeling unstimulated, I had felt confused. When I would look at my degree, just months old but already covered in a layer of dust, I had felt ashamed.

I would be lying if I didn't tell you that I sometimes felt like a disgrace. My education wasted, even if only temporarily. My student loans a harsh reminder of years of hard work that had been put on pause.

But reading that fortune and eating that crappy Chinese food... that was the moment of assurance I've needed. The epiphany. The connection. The appreciation. The grounded voice inside myself, printed on paper by some machine, shoved in a box with thousands of others, shipped to the very restaurant that would guarantee delivery to me.

It was magical.

Living within your means is not a disgrace.

Staying at home with your daughter is not a disgrace.

Being there for every smile, laugh, boo boo, and cry is not a disgrace.

But missing it would be (for me).

And so with that little fortune, I open Momfish to viewers for the 1st time. I share my mantra that I'm going to repeat over and over, every day.

I am doing good work. I am doing my best. I am valuable.



And I am rich.

Free video of an adorable baby babbling? It's yours. Free video of semi-annoying but still endearing baby talk included as well.

As you can tell, Everly is very excited for me to get Momfish open to the public. As are her cheeks, which I consider separate entities.

I'm getting close. Trying to smooth over a few bumps. I know the site will evolve with time, but I don't want everyone checking it out and it being completely sub-par.

PS) My bar for sub-par is not set very high so don't expect perfectionistic craftsmanship, is all I'm sayin'. ;)

It is the end of a very long day. The longest (and loudest) day Everly has had in her life. We went to the Kentucky Wrestling State Tournament and spent the entire morning and afternoon among a crowd of thousands of people, announcements and music, cheers and whistles. Everly was passed from person to person and stayed calm and observant, sticking her tongue out and blowing raspberries at them. People cooed at her and held her hands, and dangled her toys in front of her.

She was exhausted and somehow fell asleep at a couple different points, surprising everyone (especially Billy and I) because she does not go down for naps easily.

Used to I got my thrills by dressing in some rebellious way, being loud and and controlling the room, or strutting around with a new hair style. And OK... don't get me wrong... I like attention and those things can still be fun, but nothing thrills me more than seeing my daughter so loved and so happy.

Nothing.

I am so glad that I am starting this website to celebrate motherhood. It transforms who you are as a woman. It shifts focus. It fulfills. And as a huge bonus - you get pooped on regularly.

Everly Mae,

Everly Mae,

Six months ago I was in a foggy stupor when they wheeled you into my hospital room for me to admire. I remember letting you open and close your hand on my pointer finger for almost an entire hour. Afterwards, I asked for you to be taken to the nursery, because I was exhausted. I was in labor for 22 hours, 17 or 18 of them being unmedicated. Once you were gone, I collapsed into your father's arms. He put on a movie and I tried my best to sleep, but I was startled out of it over and over with anxious bursts of energy. I would suffer from a fog-like insomnia for the next few days, and it took weeks before I really felt safe enough to sleep for a few hours without checking on you. I remember feeling afraid the anxiety would consume me... and that I wouldn't be able to care for you.

Right now, you're finishing out a long nap. I'm guessing it's longer because you're getting a bit of the cold I have. I checked your breathing before I came down to write this, it's a habit I don't forsee breaking entirely. A lot of the anxiety has calmed now, but it took time. I made peace with it. Some people tried to rush me into it, worried I would collapse under it's pressure. Your daddy patiently waited, knowing my resilience in the face of fear. As the months have ticked by, I found a confidence growing from the depths of my spirit. God has sent me small signs of my capability.

"She's hungry," I tell someone bouncing you, recognizing the desperation in your short cries. "She is sleepy," I assure someone else, watching them dangle colorful toys in front of you. I see your eyelids become slower with each blink. "She is mad you're dressing her," I tell another as they quickly try to finish zipping up your outfit.

Over these last six months, I have come to know you in a way I wouldn't expect. For most other mothers, it comes naturally, but I was afraid that wouldn't be the case for me.

Right now you like to laugh by breathing through your mouth in whispery huffs. You like practicing drinking from your sippy cup and holding your bottle just long enough to impress us, before you stop because you want us to do the hard work. You like other people much more now, and you study their faces when they hold you. Your aunt and Mamaw say that they feel like you're looking straight through them, because your eyes are so bright and beautiful. You like standing up way more than sitting or lying. You love carrots, which I'm cautiously allowing you to try again, watching for signs of an upset belly (none so far!) You love when your daddy makes strange, high-pitched noises. You laugh for him more than you do for me and sometimes it makes me playfully jealous.

You like your feet and hold onto them often now. It's probably one of the cutest things I've ever seen. Your great-grandma got you some booties that rattle and you'll pick your legs up high in the air and examine them. You like when I read you books and change my voice to match the characters. You love music, but you're very selective (just like me).

You don't like being laid down in your crib for naps, and you usually fuss about 10-15 minutes before you'll go to sleep. Though it's hard on your father and I, I love that about you. You don't give up. You're a fighter. You don't like if we take something away from you that is holding your attention. You don't like being put on your stomach and it only entertains you for 10 minutes before you whine and cry. You know how to roll over very well (both ways), but if you're tired or I'm watching you, you want me to do it for you.

The days of bouncing on the blue ball are almost gone. You're getting bigger, and requiring it less. You're still very tough to get to sleep though sometimes, especially without it. I don't know if you'll outgrow it mentally, but physically it's getting harder for me to rock and bounce my arms to a satisfactory height. I stare at it sometimes in your nursery and remember the hours and hours I spent on it while pregnant, hoping it would speed up your arrival. Then I remember the hours and hours your father and I spent on it once you were here, soothing your tiredness. I know putting it up will be a milestone for our family... a reminder that you're getting older. Becoming a baby... pushing past the newborn stage.

Back when I thought I couldn't do it, I went through all the motions every day with you. I woke up with a smile on my face, grateful that I'd been blessed with you, even though I was so tired. I dressed you in a new outfit every day, smoothing your silky hair down with my fingers. I talked to you about how our day would be, asked you how you slept and what you dreamt about, and made your bottle cheerfully. Sometimes at night when you'd fall asleep, I'd call a friend or family member and ask them how I was going to make it... what if I failed you? I'd cry into the phone. I was so tired all of the time, your father was going to return back to work, and you were crying and I wasn't sure if I knew why.

But I kept moving. Kept going. Because I had to.

And just now, six months down the road, I feel the fog lifting more each day. I feel my confidence growing. I am finding myself as your mother. Trusting myself. Realizing the power of my instinct. Embracing the calmness as a friend, knowing I must take care of you and give you a happy life.

I still stumble in the dark sometimes... but I keep my eyes on you as I trip and fall, finding my way. I invest in the knowledge that I must protect you. I go and watch you sleeping when I need to remind myself of my strength of creating life. I rely on your smile and press your fingers against my lips when I feel unsure. I breathe you in, every second I can.

I know these moments are fleeting, slipping away from my grasp. And there is no time to waste on doubting myself any more.

I have made it. I am with you. We are safe.

And I am so deeply, beautifully, naturally in love with you.

===========================

Dear Everly (Hedgehog, Ever, Evi-Mae, Sugar Biscuit, etc...)