nineteen months.

nineteen months.

oh my.

facing the reality that nineteen months has passed since asher's birth is simply unreal. just a moment ago i was folding tiny newborn gowns + reading spiritual midwifery in the sunshine on the back porch, preparing for a new little life. and now, over a year and a half later - our asher is almost a little boy. pushing his chair up to the sink so that he can grab my yesterday's coffee that sits inside. taking liberties to take his own diaper off when it's time for a change, singing the "mama" song that he composed himself, counting to three in his own little way. closer to two than one.

when the days were slower and asher was itty bitty, i often used to talk to him at night as he nursed to sleep about when he came into my life. i'd pet and kiss his sweet little head and apologize for not being there during that first week when he stayed in the nicu.  one of his doctor's told me during that week, that soon asher would be home and healthy and the time in the nicu would seem distant and brief. in a way that is not true to me. it’s true that one week is a short amount of time, but that was OUR first week. there is something so wrong about a mother and baby being separated at birth. even though i was able to spend much time with him, provide all of his milk for him, and was lucky that his stay was so short - there are still moments that we were robbed from. sometimes now at bedtime, i still go back to the beginning. i tell asher how much he means to me. nineteen months later i am still thankful that God answered my prayers and healed asher. that first week was hard, but for every first moment that was lost, i've now had nineteen months of asher in my arms each and every night to make up for it. and for that i will always be grateful.

Asher at eighteen months.