1 year old

One year ago today, James, Augie and I were resting in a hospital, recovering from Augie's arrival, snuggling in the bed together, and getting to know each other (James was probably also eating).

This was taken the moment after Augie arrived:

As soon as he was born, I reached down and helped guide him onto my bare belly. He was warm and wet and gooey and wriggly; I'll never forget the feeling of his little naked body squirming on my chest and tummy, then slowly coming to a rest and suckling on my nipple. We rested there for about ninety minutes, warming each other, smelling each other, loving each other. Eventually they took him away to wash him, weigh him, and do whatever else it is they do with newborns, but those ninety minutes with the three of us together for the first time were dreamlike in their intimacy and utter foreignness.

The three of us snuggled in for a nap together today after going for a long walk in the very cold Michigan weather. It seems impossible that one day we won't be able to do that, to all snuggle in together - he'll outgrow us and the need for closeness and intimacy that we share now. So we'll have to revel in every moment we get.

(Because today was Thanksgiving, we decided to celebrate Augie's first birthday tomorrow, when we could take time for a proper celebration and pause from the Thanksgiving madness. We aren't doing anything grand, just a bit of cake and presents and family time.)