The first day that I met my little Mia was about six-and-a-half months ago, though it seems to exist in another lifetime now, for me. How else can I describe an event that hovers on the edge of my consciousness as though it were yesterday, but the tangible details of which have now slipped so far past me that I wonder how six months could truly be an accurate representation of the time that has passed?
She's gigantic now, in comparison to what she was at first 9 lb, 4oz glance; "standing" 28 inches tall, nearing 20 lbs (19 lb, 7 oz) to be exact, sporting 2.25 teeth and a grin that burns a happy hole in the soul. Her weeks-late (won't they all be from now on?) six-month appointment has confirmed her numbers and determined her percentiles: 97th in height and 88th in weight.
And how determined she is to stand, though she's far from being able to do so! She merely tolerates her sitting time on the floor, and is only temporarily content to drag herself around across the rug. She's got her sights set on dancing in the shadows of her siblings, and- dance, she shall (on a day much too near on the horizon for me to consider).
I can't think too much on that now, desperate as I am to cling to her brief span of tiny-ness, wishful as I am that I could go right back to that day when I first held her to me, and witnessed all of her tiny parts in person.
I can't go back, but I can reminisce.
There's no better way, it seems, than to take in the beauty of others' birth stories and first meetings, which is exactly what the new blog, The Day We First Met, was designed to celebrate.
I'm guest-posting there with the origin story of Miss Amelia, herself. Please take a moment to stop on by and get sentimental with me.
Maybe if we all wish hard enough, she really will slow down for just a little while more.