Logan - 6 months

Dear Logan,

My sweet baby boy - I am sorry I haven't written any letters to you before now. The fact is, Mama was scared I wouldn't really ever get to hold you in my arms after we had two losses before you. My pregnancy was tougher this time than with your sister - I was sick to my stomach a lot and had lots of aches and pains. And well, life has been pretty busy since you came along. I promise to write out your birth story for you though. I want to make sure we both remember how you came into the world.

You have been in our lives for six months now, and I finally understand all of those parents who say it feels like you've always been a part of our family. It was a little hard to adjust to being a family of four, and we are still learning how to best manage it. But you are so very loved by everyone. Your big sister makes sure she gives you a kiss and tells you, "I love you, Logan!" before bed and when she leaves in the morning for school. And you are fascinated with watching her. I know it won't always be smooth sailing because it never is with siblings, but I hope you two always have a special bond.

Speaking of special bonds, you really love your mama. So much that you have been sleeping in bed with me every night since you were born. I know we need to break that habit at some point, but I also am trying to soak up all of your snuggles and little-ness because I feel like you have already grown so much. When I'm not laying with you, you snuggle up to and grab the nearest thing you can find. You have had mama's milk every day since you were born - sometimes we have to add some formula in when you are at the babysitter's or mama is out of town - but I love seeing the contentment on your face when I feed you, and knowing that I can comfort you. Your little hands usually clench my shirt as tight as they can when you're nursing. You started out as a binky boy, and then gave it up, but you are back to wanting one again.

At six months, you are on the move. You first rolled back to belly a week before you turned four months, and a week or two later you rolled belly to back. You scoot all around, and you are constantly kicking. I have no doubt you will be crawling soon, and then we'll be in trouble! You already manage to move yourself around a room pretty well! Like your sister, you aren't big on sleep. You wake mama up a few times a night and your naps are usually less than an hour. On Thanksgiving you had your first food - some sweet potatoes - and you've loved them each time you've had them since. You grab the spoon and squeal for more!

You had your first real illness a couple of weeks ago - a nasty cough and ear infection. You stayed pretty happy throughout it though. You are generally such a happy boy. You love to "talk" and smile and laugh when you're tickled, which shows your cute little dimple on your right cheek. You chew on everything and drool like crazy, so I'm wondering if you will have teeth soon.

We will be celebrating your first Christmas soon. It's always a busy time for us, but it's also so magical sharing it with our children. I love you so much, Logi bear. I can't wait to continue watching you grow and learn.

Love always,
Mama

Amelia - Five

Dear Amelia,

It's hard to believe you are five. A whole hand. Because of your late August birthday, you won't go to kindergarten until next year. I am sure you could be ready this year - you write your name, Mommy, Daddy, and Bella without help. You can write almost all of your letters unassisted and are starting to make connections between letters and sounds. You continue to make amazing artwork for us, and coloring or drawing are some of your favorite things to do. You also love playing with Barbies and princess dolls.

I think the thing that has amazed me so much about you this year is your determination. When you want to learn something, you work and practice until you get it. We didn't do gymnastics this summer and yet your cartwheels have gotten a lot better because you do them constantly. One night a month or so ago you asked me how to snap your fingers. You watched me do it, tried, and then asked me to do it one more time while you watched intently. You were snapping your fingers within 24 hours. You've done amazingly well in swim lessons (you can now swim short distances unassisted). I hope that determination serves you well throughout life.

While you are still shy around people you don't know, you are so fearless in other ways. You climb everything and you've mastered the monkey bars. Unfortunately that led to a fall off your new swing set a couple of weeks ago - the result was a fractured elbow. You picked a bright yellow cast and didn't want anyone to sign it. Fortunately you're getting the cast off the day before your birthday party - a Tangled theme this year.

You can certainly be stubborn, but you are also still so sweet and loving. You love to give hugs and snuggle, and you love all of your cousins and are wonderful with Ian. He loves playing with you! All in all you are a very good natured kid, and you make us smile and laugh daily.

Today is a perfect sunny day, cool enough to have the doors and windows open - just like the day you were born. Happy 5th birthday, sweetheart. Here's to another great year!

Love always,
Mommy

May

Last week marked three days filled with mixed emotions. Mother's Day on May 8th. Two days later, the due date of the little one I lost in October. And on Friday the 13th I turned 35.

And I am struggling.

I gave myself a few months "off" from baby thoughts. I wanted to enjoy vacation (which I did - perfect weather and wonderful time with my husband and baby girl). I wanted to be able to have an adult beverage at a couple of upcoming events. But in about a month, those will have passed. And I feel like I am no closer to a resolution.

The pregnancy announcements have been coming in waves in recent weeks, from friends in my online groups and one of my best friends from college. Another friend told me she's ready to try for #2. I've been hiding FB posts. I've been crying. I increased my meds a month or so ago, but I can't shake this off. I'm considering going back to counseling - I didn't feel much benefit from the woman I saw a few times, but the options here are few and far between. #smalltown

I need to talk to my husband, but I know he doesn't really understand. He's content where we are. And I am too, to an extent. I keep thinking of how simple our life is now, and how I don't want to turn Amelia's world upside down. But I watched baby videos of her the other day and my heart just aches. She's getting so big. Can I really move forward and never experience those baby days again? And while I know it's totally fine to only have one child, I am in the minority in my group of friends. I'm feeling "less than." It's a hard thing to explain.

I really can't even put into words where my heart is right now. I think about being done and I feel like there's a rock in my stomach. I think about starting over again and I panic.

"I don't know how long I can do this, he said. I think the universe has different plans for me & we sat there in silence & I thought to myself that this is the thing we all come to & this is the thing we all fight & if we are lucky enough to lose, our lives become beautiful with mystery again & I sat there silent because that is not something that can be said." storypeople.com 

Where do we go from here?

Two losses in four months. I'm not even sure I have processed that with a couple of additional months behind me. I went to counseling a few times to try to sort out my emotions and decide whether we would try again. I started going to yoga to destress (which I love by the way). And I decided regardless, I needed a break. We needed a break. I had spent most of a six month time span in some stage of pregnancy - testing, blood work, ultrasounds, doctors' appointments, D&C, recovery, waiting, trying, repeat. I wanted to get back to myself and my family and some semblance of normalcy. I wanted to enjoy our beach vacation and drinks on the patio and playing outside with Amelia.

I was able to push it to the back of my mind for a bit.

But now as vacation and summer are approaching - as well as my first due date and my 35th birthday in May - I'm feeling the anxiety and the need to make a decision creeping back in. One day I feel convinced that we need another child. The next day (or often the same day) I can't imagine starting all over again. At this point there would be about six years between two kids and that seems like a big span. Too big. Time is ticking.

There's been an influx of pregnancy announcements in my news feed lately and I'm starting to avoid them. I get tears in my eyes and I hide the posts. I know my brother-in-law and his wife are TTC. And I hope they don't make an announcement to us in person. I am happy for all of them, but I am conflicted and anxious and sad about my own journey.

Chad and I don't talk about it much. He's content where we are, and I know the idea of starting all over is unappealing to him. And I can't say I disagree. At 4 and a half, Amelia is pretty independent and awesome. We're a year away from ditching daycare payments. But how can I say it's time to put my baby and mama years behind me? That it's time to sell the baby stuff in the basement? My one and only baby is growing up, and the idea of being DONE makes my heart so heavy.

My OB told me there was no reason to think I couldn't have another healthy pregnancy. That two miscarriages in a row was crappy, but since I had no issues with my pregnancy with Amelia, there was nothing indicating there was an underlying issue.

But what if we finally make the decision to try again and we lose that one too?

What if...

What if...

I bought this bracelet yesterday - the mantra I try to repeat when I'm getting overwhelmed by the what ifs. For now I'm trying to let it be, and hope to find peace with whatever resolution we come to.

"When I find myself in times of trouble
Mother Mary comes to me 
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be 
And in my hour of darkness 
She is standing right in front of me 
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be 

 Let it be, let it be Let it be, let it be 
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be 

And when the broken-hearted people 
Living in the world agree 
There will be an answer, let it be 
For though they may be parted 
There is still a chance that they will see 
There will be an answer, let it be 

Let it be, let it be
Let it be, let it be 
Yeah, there will be an answer, let it be 
Let it be, let it be 
Let it be, let it be 
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be 

 And when the night is cloudy 
There is still a light that shines on me 
Shine on until tomorrow, let it be 
I wake up to the sound of music, Mother Mary comes to me 
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be 
Let it be, let it be Let it be, yeah, let it be 
Oh, there will be an answer, let it be 
Let it be, let it be Let it be, yeah, let it be 
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be."

Déja Vu

I got a positive pregnancy test the day after Christmas. I was nervous, cautiously excited, you name it. When I went through my miscarriage in October, I read something about pregnancy after a miscarriage, and the author said she tried to be excited, that the next baby deserved the same excitement and joy that she had felt with her first pregnancy. So I got on that train. I sorted the maternity clothes. I bought a few baby things and tucked them into the back of the closet. We told our close friends and family. I thought hey, I had a perfectly healthy pregnancy with Amelia. I had never had a loss before. These things just happen, and my "thing" had already happened. I was ready to start over and move on.

Yesterday I hit the 7 week mark. And I started spotting. Quite a bit. I called my OB's office because my first appointment was two days away. They told me to have bloodwork done yesterday when I could, and then to repeat it the morning before my appointment. So I went, had my blood drawn, and waited for the other shoe to drop.

I woke up this morning afraid to get out of bed. Afraid to go to the bathroom. But I had to get up, clearly. And as I feared, it wasn't just spotting this morning. *Cue shoe dropping* I called the OB's office back, and they still want me to do the bloodwork and appointment tomorrow. I know it needs to be done, but I don't know how to look at the ultrasound screen and see nothing again. How to leave that office again and go on with the rest of my day and week and month...

I had already considered that if we had another loss we may be done trying. While I was excited for another child, I was also terrified of starting over. Amelia is such an awesome kid. Sleep is awesome. Maybe we need to be content with our one perfect girl who I love so much I think my heart could explode some days. Maybe we look forward to Disney World and kindergarten and redecorating her big girl room and leave behind the thoughts of more daycare and nurseries and second car seats.

With two losses back to back, the doubt and irrational thoughts creep in. What's wrong with me? What did I do wrong? And yes, I know they are in fact irrational thoughts. But they're there nonetheless. So now I'm back in limbo again. Trying to find a way to move on again. Having to make decisions again. And yeah, it sucks. It really, really sucks.

"When you try your best, but you don't succeed

When you get what you want, but not what you need

When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep

Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face

When you lose something you can't replace

When you love someone but it goes to waste

Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home

And ignite your bones

And I will try to fix you..." - Coldplay

Moving Forward

The week after I wrote that last post was a tough one. I was dealing with a lot of anxiety - the "I'm just sitting here working and I can't breathe and it lasts all day" kind. I started using some essential oils, which helped some, and then I went to my primary doctor who I love. She told me we could increase my current daily dose of what I've been taking for several months, and also gave me a low dose of Xanax. Just having that gave me some piece of mind. I actually ended up not increasing my daily meds, and I did take the Xanax a couple of times, but it made me pretty sleepy. So while I still carry it just in case, I haven't taken it again.

Fortunately that has all subsided for the most part. Maybe it was just the hormones, maybe it was just the immediate reaction. Either way, I am doing better. I went for my follow up appointment with my OB. She asked if we wanted to try again and I told her I wasn't sure yet. She suggested I come back in six weeks for my (late) annual, and we could discuss birth control if I wanted to, or we could talk babies. She also said if I do get pregnant again it is totally up to me how we handle it. I can be monitored like crazy, or we can back off if it makes me anxious. That was nice to hear. She told me the pathology came back ok, so this was just one of those things. Of course I can't help but think the crazy thoughts like, "It's because I didn't give up coffee." But really, there's no way of knowing what happened.

I can't say that I don't still get sad or upset (like when the woman at the front desk at my dentist's  office, who has known me my entire life, asked me, "No new babies?" this week. Ugh. Or when I saw the bill for the hospital.) but I'm moving on. Now I'm back to HOW do I want to move on.

We've not had any more major discussions about trying again, but I did ask a week or two ago how certain Chad was that he didn't want another. He said 50/50. I feel the same way. I feel this NEED to get pregnant again, but I'm trying to weigh whether it is just for the vindication or if I truly want a second child. I see Amelia play with her one year old cousin, and she's great. She loves babies. But man, we have a really good thing going here. She's an amazingly awesome kid right now. Do we really want the stress of starting all over? And if we decide to, do we start trying right away? I feel like yes, I would want to. But that also means - in a best case scenario - we would have kids with birthdays very close together. I like the idea of a spring/summer baby. And well, that ship has sailed. At this point there would already be five years between A and #2, and that seems like a lot. I'll be 35 in May, and I feel that clock ticking.

If my brain and the decision to TTC were on Facebook, right now we would be listed as "It's complicated." We'll see where this journey takes us next...

The Aftermath

It will be a week tomorrow since we got the news. I seem to have passed from the anger stage to the sadness stage. I told Chad I think I want to try again once we get the go ahead from the doctor, and he doesn't agree, which is only compounding what I'm feeling. I know this pregnancy was a surprise and there would be challenges. Starting over with an infant isn't easy. But while before I never felt there was something missing from our family like I've heard some people talk about, now I do. There is a hole left by the baby-that-was-going-to-be. The one I pictured wearing in a new baby carrier, sleeping in the spare room turned new nursery. And it hurts my heart.

I worry about the emotional recovery from this. I have been taking meds for anxiety/mood swings for several months, and I worry that they won't be enough to help me cope. I'm looking into essential oils to use as well. I know everyone says it takes time, but I need time to fast forward.

We got away to go to an amazing concert (tenth row for Garth Brooks!) with my best friend and her husband this past weekend and it was wonderful. But on the way home we drove through the town where my new OB is and where the D&C took place, and I felt like I couldn't breathe. Anxiety in its rawest form. Somehow I have to drive back there in a week. Somehow I have to keep going. I feel a little crazy when I say this, but I feel like I have an emotional aversion to the foods I wanted while I was pregnant. I don't want the meals and snacks that are still sitting in the cabinet and refrigerator that I bought when I was craving them. And then at the same time, I went ahead and brought home maternity clothes from my BFF. Just in case. My whole life feels like a contradiction right now.

I am the type of person who likes to be in control, who needs a plan, who is the one who handles the tough stuff when others can't. This situation isn't allowing for that. I know I'm supposed to take it easy, give myself time, all of those cliché statements, but I don't WANT to. And well, then I cycle back to being angry again.

I teared up a couple of times at the Garth concert. "The Dance" and "Unanswered Prayers." And this one hit home.

"When the rain is blowing in your face

And the whole world is on your case

I could offer you a warm embrace

To make you feel my love

When the evening shadows and the stars appear

And there is no one to dry your tears

I could hold you for a million years

To make you feel my love

I know you haven't made your mind up yet

But I would never do you wrong

I've known it from the moment that we met 

There's no doubt in my mind where you belong

I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue

I'd go crawling down the avenue

There ain't nothing that I wouldn't do

To make you feel my love.

The storms are raging on a rolling sea

Down the highway of regret

The winds of change are blowing wild and free

But you ain't seen nothing like me yet

There is nothing that I wouldn't do

Go to the ends of the earth for you

Make you happy, make your dreams come true

To make you feel my love."

October

In late August/early September I started having dreams that I was pregnant. I haven't been on birth control for several years, and while I always knew it was a possibility, I didn't really THINK it was a possibility. If that makes sense. But I had some expired pregnancy tests in the bathroom drawer, so I took one every few days - negative. Until I got a faint line the day my period was due. WHAT?! I immediately started Googling "false positives on expired pregnancy tests" and that got me nowhere. So I headed to CVS for a new test. Chad had come home by that time and when the very obvious second line showed up, I rushed down to the kitchen, test in hand, and just stood there laughing and crying like a lunatic. Holy. Crap. I was pregnant.

We were definitely in shock, but started to get excited. We had still never decided if we were going to have another child, and it seemed like this was the answer! It was just meant to be. No decisions to make. I set up an initial appointment with a new OB (I had issues with my old office), which also meant I would deliver at a different hospital than I had with Amelia. We told our immediate family and some close friends because I just didn't feel like keeping the secret. They were all thrilled, of course.

I had my first appointment and ultrasound with the new practice at 7w3d. There was our little blob! A heart rate of 138 and measuring 6w5d but the doctor was ok with that. She did see a tiny pocket of non-active bleeding that she wanted to recheck in a few weeks but told me she wasn't concerned at all and it was probably from implantation. My due date - May 10. Three days before my own birthday, and always the week of Mother's Day.

And with that, we told a few more people. Including Amelia, whose reaction was a little underwhelming, but c'est la vie. She's four, after all. I allowed baby fever to officially take over. I signed up for all of the apps and emails, started ordering new maternity clothes because the seasons wouldn't line up for my old ones. I made lists of names. My belly got bloated almost immediately and it was hard to button my jeans. I was starving all the time, got lightheaded and nauseous a few times to the point of needing to buy Seabands. I planned our Facebook announcement since we already had family photos scheduled for October 25 - the end of my first trimester.

We were still freaking out over the logistics - rearranging rooms, my being in a new (work from home) job with no short term disability. Two kids in daycare to pay for. Yikes. But we would make it work.

Last Friday, I told my coworkers over our weekly Skype video chat. I was just shy of nine weeks, but with only four people in our group and the nature of telecommuting, I just felt like I needed to share since one other team member was already pregnant and we needed to plan.

The night of Monday, Oct. 5 - the same day I got Amelia's big sister shirt in the mail along with a home Doppler an online friend of mine was kind enough to loan me - I started spotting. The doctor had told me that pocket of blood she saw could lead to brown spotting so I tried not to be alarmed. It was brown. And then there was some red. But more brown. I tried to calm down and called the office first thing in the morning. They told me to come in at 11:50. Chad was working, and I just prayed everything was ok and went alone.

As soon as I saw the ultrasound come up on the screen, I knew. 

There was no heartbeat. 

The exact day I hit the nine week mark was the day I found out there would be no baby after all. Unbeknownst to me, it had stopped growing at least a week earlier.

I have never had a loss before. But I knew what would come next. The doctor told me my options. Since we were planning to go out of town this weekend to a concert with my friend three hours away, we agreed that a D&C was the best way to go. No fear of the unknown. I was scheduled for the next morning.

I went through the Starbucks drive thru on the way home, and was told the person in front of me paid for my PSL and wanted me to have a good day. I managed not to cry until I pulled away from the window.

I came home and immediately started getting rid of everything. I boxed up the maternity clothes I had hung up in the closet, bagged up what could be returned. Hauled what was left to the basement. Hid all of the Preggie Pop Drops in the back of a cabinet. Deleted the apps, the pictures, unsubscribed from the emails. I was ANGRY. I refused to look at myself in the mirror or look down because that little bloated bump that I'd been excited to accent no longer meant anything. I buttoned my jeans out of spite even though it was uncomfortable. Every time Chad hugged me that night I cried. We "untold" everyone we needed to. The calls and texts you never want to make. But I kept trying to be me - handling a crisis, compartmentalizing. Let's just take care of this and move forward.

I wasn't allowed to eat after midnight, but didn't have to be at the hospital until 10:15. Long morning. We arrived, checked in. I was taken to be prepped for surgery. I sat in a gown, alone, and started crying because THIS WAS NOT HOW MY FIRST TRIP TO THIS NEW HOSPITAL WAS SUPPOSED TO END. THIS WAS NOT OK. But I got it together again. Made small talk with the nurses. Then when they took my temperature they discovered I had a low grade fever - I knew it was from the sinus problems I'd been fighting. The anesthesiologist arrived and told me he was 99.9% against going forward because of the fever. Too risky. And the crying began anew. One of the nurses went to get Chad, and I lost it when he came in. Sobbing. They told me they were calling my doctor to see how to proceed and left us alone. I kept sobbing that I couldn't do this, I was not going home. The night before I had been so terrified that I was going to have a miscarriage at home before I ever even got to the hospital and there was no way I was going to be sent home that day. I just couldn't do it. Just when I thought this couldn't be any worse, somehow it was.

When the nurses came back with the anesthesiologist they told me the OB had said she could still do the D&C, they would just use other means than general anesthesia. That there could be a risk for infection, and I had to sign a consent acknowledging the risk. Did I want to proceed? YES. God, yes. I signed the form the anesthesiologist gave me, and while I tried to ignore what I saw in his doctor-y handwritten scribbles, I saw the word "abortion." And yes, I knew that technically that was true, but oh, what a terrible thing to see. This was not a choice. Absolutely not my choice. Finally I was on my way to surgery. Still making small talk, trying to be cheerful and cooperative, but the last thing I remember is being in that bright white operating room and seeing the white board across from me that read "D&C with suction." I will never, ever, ever forget that. THIS IS NOT OK. But it will be ok...

So. Here I am about 24 hours later. And the question has been asked 100 times. "How are you doing?" And how do I answer that? Physically I'm doing alright. A little pain but nothing unbearable. Emotionally? Well, 48 hours ago I was pregnant. Today I am not. And I am back to square one of "Do we do this again?". So I'm angry. No, actually I am FUCKING PISSED. When we got the "surprise" it just seemed meant to be. God's will and all that. So what does it mean that this has been taken away? Is this supposed to make us realize we did in fact want another baby? I don't know. I know there is no explanation, that these things happen. But this is like the ultimate cruel joke. I feel at the moment like this cannot be the end of our story. That that cannot be my last trip to that hospital. That I need redemption and a happy ending. But there is healing to do, and discussion to be had, and planning to consider.

I shared this on my Facebook wall last night: 
"Because about a month ago we got some amazing, surprising news.
Because today we got some heartbreaking news.
Because I was planning to make a very different Facebook post in a few weeks.
Because it is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, and I know that we are far from alone. Please know that you aren't either. <3"

I was touched by how many people reached out privately. To tell me they are currently or have recently gone through very similar things. I hate that this happens to anyone. But I am glad they felt comfortable sharing their stories with me. My heart goes out to everyone who has ever dealt with a loss, now more than ever.

And as for our story, I guess the next chapter is up in the air. 

FOUR

(Posted about a month belatedly. I'm sorry!)

Dear Amelia,

I didn't expect to be so emotional about your fourth birthday, but I've spent a week fighting back tears as I put together a slideshow of pictures from the past year and get ready for your carousel themed birthday party. This summer has turned you into a big kid. I feel like you get taller every day - your legs are getting longer and skinnier, your face is getting thinner, your hair is getting longer. I am reminded every day that before long you'll be going off to kindergarten, and these little kid days will be behind us. I'm not ready, kiddo.

You moved up to the Firefly room at school and your favorite thing to do these days is color and draw. I feel like you rarely play with toys these days - you just want to color and draw and write. You are constantly asking me how to spell words and I'm amazed when you know how to write the letters with little help from me. The other day you wrote quite a bit of the alphabet all by yourself. I may be biased but I think you are one smart little cookie.

You insist on wearing dresses every day and love girly things. You're still obsessed with Frozen and dressing up in princess dresses. Mommy is a little sad that your Ellie elephant you slept with for the past few years is no longer a necessity for bedtime, and you've been rotating through other stuffed animal friends instead.

You are still our little love bug. You love giving kisses and hugs and snuggling. In the mornings you often come into our room and tap me on the arm before asking if you can snuggle before we get up for the day. Yes. The answer will always be yes.

Of course you still have your stubborn moments - you like to get your way and you are an expert negotiator. ("Just one more?" "Just a few more minutes?") You throw some doozy fits every now and then but overall you're just an awesome kid. Your language is so clear and precise and you are inquisitive and silly.

You recently started ballet instead of gymnastics and when I snuck a peek in the room you were twirling all over the place. I hope you are always so happy and carefree.

Happy 4th birthday, princess! We love you so much!

Love always,
Mommy

Dear Amelia - 3.5 Years

Dear Amelia,

This past weekend we celebrated your cousin's fourth birthday. That means in less than six months YOU are going to be four. I'm having trouble believing that can be true. Four isn't a baby anymore. Four is definitely a big girl. 

You are absolutely, without a doubt the light of our lives, sweet pea. You are making up for all of those rough months at the beginning of your life by being the most amazing toddler/preschooler. While you are certainly stubborn and ornery at times, you are really very well-behaved most of the time. I've had many people comment about how "good" you are. The tantrums I hear about from other kids your age are few and far between, though you get frustrated by the word "no," of course. You want to be independent, putting on your coat by yourself and wanting to help make lunch and dinner (which you also call lunch). Speaking of which, you're still a great eater - you'll happily eat fish, steak, broccoli, and salad with "cranch," though macaroni and cheese is still your favorite.

You are definitely a girly girl. You love princess dress-up (Frozen!) and twirly dresses and pink/sparkly things. You've also inherited your daddy's artistic abilities. You love to color and draw and are great at it. I'm impressed! You can spell your name and are working on writing it. You love singing, being silly and being tickled. And we are thrilled that you still love hugs and kisses and snuggles, which you initiate all the time.

Right around when you turned three you finally started sleeping really well, all the time. You're now in your toddler bed and are quite happy there. You even let Mommy snuggle in with you and your Ellie elephant for a little bit at bedtime and it's one of my favorite moments every day. 

There are times when I still can hardly believe you're mine, because I'm just in awe of what a wonderful, beautiful little person you are becoming. I love you so much, Amelia Bedelia.

Love always,

Mommy