Deep.

I am feeling a deep and painful sadness.

I am depressed.

I have been so for almost a week now.

It is profound.

It is heavy.

It is dark.

I wasn't expecting it.

It is making me feel like a failure.

In my marriage.

As a mother.

As a photographer.

As a blogger.

As a friend.

As a provider.

As a servant.

In every way.

I cried for a long, long time today.

In the closet.

While running down the road.

In the shower.

On the bathroom floor.

Heaping.

Sobs.

It hurts.

It is frightening.

It is all I can do to keep breathing.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

I want to run away.

I want to be different.

I want to sleep all day.

I wish for the pain to be lessened.

I wish to feel myself again.

I hope this passes soon.

Yearbook 2010: February

February looks super lame. I took 5 photos that month? They were all digital? Sad, sad times. (Okay, so I may have taken more, which I am almost POSITIVE I did, proof may be in the stack of 5 or so discs I just found from Walgreen's.) I'll check them out and let you know, but for now...

Yep. That's it. Not even a photo of Joth. BOO.

Anyway. I'll share another one of my resolutions. Take time each day to hug each of my kids, look them in the eye, and do SOMEthing that THEY want to do. Today, I took time to help Memms write a story. She REALLY likes writing stories and drawing pictures to go with them. Actually, she draws the pictures and then we write the story together. Afterwards I kissed her ginormous cheeks repeatedly. She is the sweetest girl I know.

Millz? Well, I held her on my lap for what seemed like two hours while I worked. That is what she seemed to want to do, so I let her. I also gave her some of my leftover birthday cake from The Cheesecake Factory. She really liked that.

Joth? He has been at school all day, but I plan on taking him with me to run a few errands before we are off to our cousin Lance's funeral. Jobby tends to get super tired and crabby after school, so I hope to tickle him and be silly with him and let him pick a treat from the store. Possibly I'll give into the Hot Wheels car he always tries to get me to buy.

Yep, these are the days, and they are quickly speeding past us. This week I lost two family members. Lance, and my Great Grandma Thurgood. Tears well up when I think of all the times I let the 'other stuff' get in the way of the right now.

Trying super hard to remember this each and every day.

Hope your days are full of as much joy as I am trying to find in mine.

xoxo

Dear Memms,

My heart is full at the moment. It is almost 2 a.m. and I can't get your sweet heart off of my mind. Tonight you had your Christmas dance recital. You got to wear your favorite pajamas that I bought just for this special event. You have had them for weeks and weeks and have worn them so much they looked like they were a year old. We fixed your hair in pigtails, and tied white ribbons around them. Your hair is getting so long, you look like a different girl. You danced so wonderfully. The sweet smile you have upon seeing your friends and your dance teacher Melissa absolutely melts me. So thankful for you.

Tonight was a big lesson in learning to give. There was a gift exchange with all of the tiny dancers. There was a $5 limit on the gift and we gave a very sweet box of Littlest Pet Shop toys that I got for a steal from Walgreen's this summer. Remember how we were saving it for Dilly? Well, I remembered that we had it and thought how fun it would be to use it for the gift exchange. You were so excited when I pulled it out. I could tell how badly you wished it was for you. You were still so very sweet as we wrapped it up to give away to someone else. I guess I should have explained that part a little better. It can be a hard concept for a little four year old to comprehend. When it was your turn to choose a gift toward the end of the group, there were only a few gifts left, and there was your beautiful bag, still waiting to be chosen, no one realizing what a wonderful gift that was inside. So you walked up and snatched it. I felt conflicted, I wanted you to learn to share and give, and so I called across the room, "Hey Memms! Why don't you choose another gift so that someone can have your gift." Immediate alligator tears ensued. I am not sure if it was because of the 50 people watching, or if I had just shattered your tiny heart, or the fact that after some love and coaxing from your teacher she helped you choose another gift which happened to be a pair of beautiful red polka dot socks instead of a toy, doll, or game like the other girls got. Your heart was shattered, and at that instant, so was mine.

Even as I write this tears are streaming down my cheeks. Oh how I love you, and wanted to run away with you at that moment. It seems so silly, but watching you hurt over something so small made me ache. I felt four again. I felt your pain. There was a boy in the audience, maybe 11 or 12 who was watching you. I think your broken heart touched his. He was so concerned about you, he wanted to make you happy too! He gave you a tiny, shiny pink rock. (He must have had it in his pocket.) You loved it. As we drove home we talked about giving, and receiving and being thankful for everything that we have. We talked about the beautiful red socks with the cute green bow, perfect for Christmas. We cherished the gold and blue box the socks came in, and the tissue paper discretely hiding your new treasured rock. We said silent prayers of thanks for a teaching moment, and for a tender hearted girl.

Thank you for teaching me about love today Memms. You are laying right next to me in my bed as I type this. I wish I could stop time, if even for a day, and freeze who you are at this moment. My first girl, my serious, deep, thoughtful girl. Thank you for sacrificing today to learn a deeper lesson in life. Momma loves you, with all of her soul.

Much love always,

Mom

Hitting a wall.

Photo completely unrelated to post, and old, and digital. This is what you get when I post from my husband's new laptop, er uh, my new laptop, which I wish was mine, but isn't really.

I am going to use the term 'hitting -a- wall' instead of 'hitting -the- wall'. It has nothing to do with running either.

This week was rough. I have had myself together for the past month. I have been on top of my motherly and wifely duties for so long, and then WHAM this week hit me like a ton of bricks.

It started last week when that effer Aunt F was in town, she forced all sorts of brownies down my throat and convinced me that if I went running and worked out I would feel even worse than I already did, so I stayed put, working around the house, working on sessions etc.

This week found us a one car family. Well, sort of, first we were a no car family, (long story) we were using a borrowed car that started SMOKING on us Wednesday. We got our car back in time for the busiest weeks of my life to hit. So, between no cars, trading cars, entertaining out of town guests, boutiques, sessions, editing, laundry, dishes, (or not being home to do laundry, dishes, sweeping, mopping etc.), a surprise party for my brother who is leaving for the army and has me in tears, and generally being OFF my schedule, I hit a wall tonight.

I got a migraine through the roof. I am so tired from averaging 4 hours of sleep this entire week, and yet, here I am, scheduled to wake in 6 hours and I am not sleeping. I needed writing therapy, for, even my blog has suffered damages from this week.

Deep. Breaths.

This week will not control me. This week will not tear me down, I will overcome and get back on my routine.

In other news and completely unrelated, but not:

Did you know I need to lose almost an entire person's worth of weight from my body? More than my almost 7 year old weighs?

Did you know my -biological- father told me that I was perhaps a wee bit fat tonight? Did you know that that made me cry in my migraine ridden state?

Then I somehow had to drive an hour home in with my migraine, fighting back the choking sobs that I am still fighting back. *frowny face*.

SO over today. As in over.

Gonna jump over this effing wall and move on...

Join me.

a perfect brightness of hope.

...just as I am about to leave to photograph a beautiful family, a new mother who is a mother because of the selfless gift of another mother.

I have seen this video from www.lds.org all around the Internet this week, and last week. I haven't taken the time to watch because, for some reason I wasn't sure I could handle bawling, or to be reminded of what an incredibly large responsibility these children of mine are. I can tell you this, it is worth watching. Every second is worth watching.

My favorite line? His very last. 'look forward with a perfect brightness of hope.'
Commence tears.

Hope.

Not only to be the best you can, and that each day we don't have to be perfect, and continued hope to those of you out there who have seen this video with tears in your eyes because you hope to be a mother. Heavenly Father LOVES you. I don't care who you are. He knows you...and is eager to give you that which you seek, even if the road is hard, and rough, and with lots of detours...the end is beautiful, and worth the trip. I can tell you that, because I. KNOW.

Carry On

Isn't this Keep Calm and Carry On necklace beautiful?
It is one of my favorites from The R House Couture, our etsy shop.

I have been 'spring cleaning' today.
As I mentioned a week or so ago, we are moving. Luckily and thankfully our house is now under contract.
YAY!

But, with it comes the preparation for moving.
That, I could do without.
I am taking one closet, one drawer a week, and going through it deeply and thoroughly to de-junk (I am not a junk keeper anyway, so I mean BUSINESS)
and to grab things for a yard sale/thrift stores.

I also spent the good portion of Sunday sewing a quilt for Millz.
It was a gift when she was born, and yes, I just finally got around to sewing it.

During all of these adventures this weekend, I came across my blessing dress.
I pulled it out, and took pictures of Millz wearing it.
(yes it fit her, but barely.)

With the dress was a bonnet and a blanket, crocheted by my great-grandmother.
I wish I remembered the story, I do not, but I do know that my mother had no girls at the time it was given, but was given in a 'hope' that she would have a girl one day to put the bonnet on, because my grandma knew she was dying, and wouldn't be able to make one for her future
granddaughter.

Me.

I felt so special this morning.
So thankful that life moves forward.
Thankful that we 'Carry On' no matter what.

As I caressed the stitches I could feel her love for me, like a hug.
Thankful for eternal families, and the glorious reunion I will get to have with this woman I never got to meet, but also with my grandpa, with all those who have gone before, and with
my baby.
Oh I cannot wait to hold my baby.

God is real.
He is powerful.
If he can love me, I know he loves you.

Let's all carry on, and be a little better today.
I know I want to be.

If I can be a tenth of what she is...

...her incredible beauty, inside, and indeed out...inspire me.
Lift me.
Help me to reach and stretch to be better.

I hope she knows just how highly I think of her.
How much she has changed me.
Thank you Nie.
Thank you.

Grab a tissue.
You will most certainly need it.

Thankful for the Promise.

So thankful.

Pray like you have never prayed before...

pic courtesy of natalie's blog

I have been watching this story unfold via twitter and facebook throughout the last week.

I met Natalie two years ago at the Film is Not Dead workshop in Hawaii.

I immediately liked Natalie, she and I had a lot in common.
I recall discussing adoption with her during that workshop...she and I were in similar boats and circumstances when it came to building our families.

Happily and miraculously, 8 weeks ago she gave birth to a beautiful baby boy whom she named Gavin after her brother who had passed away.

Baby Gavin is in the hospital at this moment fighting for his life.
He has Pertussis.
Also known as whooping cough.

What Natalie doesn't know is that as I have been reading her tweets and facebook, part of me has wanted to turn away...reliving too well the moments my nine day old Memms was admitted to Primary Children's Hospital at the tiny age of nine days...she also had RSV and they were throwing around all sorts of things at me like Pertussis...and Whooping cough.
(luckily for Memms the incubation period of Pertussis was before her birth...so she only had RSV to deal with.)

This baby Gavin has much more on his tiny shoulders.

Will you PLEASE...PLEASE...PLEASE pray for him?

Pray like you never have before.

I cannot bear to watch my friend go through this alone, but if we all can pray, she can feel our love for her and this little boy can pull through.

Thanks you guys.

All my love Natalie.

ALL. OF. IT.

Welcoming 2010 with a Grateful Heart

My heart has been full the last week.
Full of love for a few of my very dearest friends.
Full of gratitude for the miracles that surround us each and every day.
Both the large and the small.

First, I am so thankful to my Father in Heaven for blessing my dear friend Sue.
She has been such a dear and amazing friend to me since I can remember. She had an accident two weeks ago, in which through crazy bits of circumstances almost cost her her life.

I am amazed at the protection that was upon her
these past two weeks.
I was able to spend the afternoon with her yesterday. Seeing her alive, and well made me ever so grateful to our loving Heavenly Father who blessed her and protected her, and allowed me to continue to have the blessing of her friendship on this earth.

Many tears were shed as I marveled in awe of her quick healing. Her accident made me realize just how much I value her friendship, how thankful and lucky I have been to have her example in my life, and I don't want to take that for granted EVER again. I vowed to be a better friend to her and to all of my friends, because life is short...and sometimes life is cut short.

Today is the day to act...to love...to serve.

Secondly, I had the opportunity to spend a few days this week in Washington D.C. with two of my besties.

Leisha, and mrs. r.

Words cannot express the gratitude I have felt for the blessings that the closing of 2009 brought to my heart on behalf of mrs. r and her family.

I was able to witness the sealing of sweet little
Gavin
to his parents and to his big brother Tyson.

Tears streamed down my cheeks the entire night before as I felt the power of such a miraculous event, many of you have read throughout the year.

I, of all people understand the pain and anguish that comes from trial after trial...if you don't know what I am talking about, just go back and read my entire year of 2008.

Leisha, mrs. r and I joke often about how 2008 sucked for me...2009 for mrs. r,
and hoping beyond hope that 2010 is good for ALL of us...including YOU dear reader.

The power of eternal families was once again renewed in my heart as I watched this sweet family become sealed in the beautiful temple. The day was perfect...really it was.
(My photos on the other hand? Maybe not so much...thankful Leisha was there to capture it all with me.)

Life is sweet. I hope you can taste the sweetness that is there.

May 2010 and the years to come bring you much happiness and joy.
Please remember miracles have not ceased.
They will continue to flow....even in the darkest of times.
Hold onto that.

Much love.

Fighting back the tears...

...of JOY.



So, yesterday was J-Man's FIRST official SEP.

Call it what you would like:
"Student Educational Plan"
"Parent Teacher Conference"

It is what it is.

Seeing how it was J-Man's first...that automatically means, it was also MY first (as a parent).

We got to the school, sat across from his teacher, and she just goes on and on at what a great boy J is.

How sweet he is.
How kind he is.
How SMART he is.
How helpful he is.
How loving he is.
How he helps her SO much.
How she rarely gives '5''s...but how he had almost ALL 5's

I did not doubt that he would be just as good at school as he is for me.
I had to try really hard to fight back the tears of joy that I felt for my little man.

He is a rock.

Upon leaving she told Jothan:

"Come around the table and give me a hug."

Which he did. She proceeded to whisper lots of things in his ear, finishing off with what I assume was the question:

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

He promptly replied:

"A missionary."

First on his list. I don't know where he gets it.
The tears spilled over.

I love this little man.
So proud of the person he is becoming.

Baby 'Grande' and Toes are WAY more exciting than me.

When J-dawg was a little tiny man, he got this baby doll for Christmas.
(Incidentally she is like half the price now...geez.)

My hope in getting him his own little doll (and I am obviously using that term loosely) was to prepare him for the eventuality of a little brother or sister one day, hoping that it would ease the transition.

The problem? The first words out of his mouth the instant he held it were, and I quote:

"Ooooooh! Bebe muito grande!"

(said like gah-ran-jee)

Basically my tiny boy was telling me that this doll was TOO freaking huge for him to handle,
it was seriously SOOOO big!

So, the name stuck.
To this very day, having been played with by J-dawg, and Memms, and one day soon, Millz...this doll is still called,

"Baby Grande".

Meet Baby Grande...
who may or may not have once been a "boy" to ease Hubbs into the idea of his son having a doll...and who somehow has blossomed into a yellow polka dot wearing baby girl.
Who knew?

Note Millz with Baby Grande just this week.
Please consider that Millz is now three months old:

Hilariousness.

Do you see Millie in that last picture?
My other dilemma.

She is in LOVE with her feet.

She just discovered them.

While I dearly love her in every way possible,
as a mother, it is hard for me to accept that she no longer wants to look at my face,
and as a photographer she no longer eagerly looks at my camera either.

Instead she would rather look at her toes.
Another sign that she is getting bigger.
Pause while I shed a tear.

Just don't tell her that I love her toes as much as she does,
if. not. more.

I'm still here.

Sometimes, it seems all I can do these days, is just BE.

I just need to BE a mom.

I just need to BE still.

BE.

I have really immersed myself in my family the past few months.

MONTHS.

I can't believe I just said that.

Millz is two months old.

Officially.

Luckily (and thankfully for me) she is staying tiny.

She weighs 10 lbs.

The other kids weighed at least five pounds more at this point and were wearing bigger clothes.

The fact that she is just barely fitting into her 0-3 month clothes
makes me smile.

It feels like time is going slower.

A tender mercy.

That may seem silly, but it makes me cry just thinking about how much I am not ready for her to get any older or bigger.

She is napping right now.

She has been napping on a schedule for the past two days.
A sign that she is indeed getting older.

She has made me realize a great many things.

One of them being how much I adore being a mother.

How important it is to BE here for my kids.

How I would walk to the end of the earth and back for them.

It is an important job, one I pray that many of you get to experience, whether that be again, for the first time, or for eternity...it is worth the wait and every heartache to get to this point.

Many more posts to come, I have so many things I want to share, but the baby monitor is crying...we'll save the rest for another nap time.

Finally, a story that ends WITH a baby.

I am extremely teary right now.

This post needs to be written.
I hate that it has taken so long.
It is so sacred, and so special that it needed me to have the time to put it down.

I will preface with the fact that I have an EXTREME case of
"pregnant brain" combined with sleep deprivation.

It is my hope I can remember the minutes of this day like they happened, and recall with full heart how I felt.

The Monday prior to Millz birth, I had an appointment with my doctor where he
"stretched my cervix".

Let's just leave it at this: That it hurt like a mother. And I left with his words ringing in my mind, "60-70% of women will begin labor within 48 hours."

On the way home I texted one of my besties.
She said, "You'll prolly be in the 30% that don't start labor huh?" She knew what I was thinking.
I went home that night uncomfortable, but with no signs that I would have this baby before my doctor was scheduled to leave for his vacation on Friday.

Tears.

I wanted nothing more than to have HIM there to deliver this sweet girl. I prayed hard, I cleaned my house,
I MOWED THE LAWN.
NADA.

So, the night before Millz was born, I was out photographing a beautiful friend of mine, Crystalyn.
Yes, nine months pregnant I was still shooting, but at that point, one only hopes and prays that any sort of physical activity will activate full blown labor.

It didn't.

I went home and had a hard time falling asleep.
I felt like CRAP.

I woke up the next morning still feeling just all around yucky, but not in "labor". Sure, I had contractions...just like the weeks before, every 3-30 minutes. Crystalyn called me that morning, just to say,
"I felt like I needed to call you and see how you are doing."

Because of her sweet call, and her urging me to go to the doctor, I started to think,
"Huh, maybe I am in labor?"

She proceeded to tell me,
"You know you feel like crap because: YOU ARE GOING TO HAVE A BABY!"

I still laugh at that sentence.
Hindsight: She was right. At the moment: I was in denial.

I told her that I would indeed go into the hospital if I didn't start feeling better. The contractions kept coming and coming, but inconsistently, and I still felt like crapola.

I ran some errands with Hubbs, we got some lunch, then dropped the older kiddos off on the in-laws and we were off to the hospital, just to see what the heck was up and why I was feeling so icky.

We got to the hospital at 4:00 p.m.

It took what felt like forever to get to the L&D room for monitoring. Here, I was informed they would monitor me for an hour...see if I was progressing, if not then they would send me home.

BOO.

I was dilated to a 2+ when I came in. I could have cried (remember all the cervix stretching? A fancy term for "stripping of the membranes") Well when the nurse, Kathleen told me that I hadn't progressed since then...I CRIED. I knew the hour would be pointless...I felt dumb for even going into the hospital. I just wanted to turn around and leave. But I didn't...I stayed for the entire hour.

Kathleen came back in, checked me and I dilated 1/2 a centimeter. YES a half. They want you to dilate 1 centimeter an hour in order to keep you. Kathleen was SO sweet, and SO kind that she said,

"Well, how about if we keep you for one more hour? But if you don't dilate I will have to send you home because we are SUPER FULL."

Me: "Okay." All the time hoping and praying that SOMETHING would happen.

I took a few laps around the L&D floor. Hubbs was at a closing during this hour...so I was alone.
I had a lot of time to contemplate about this sweet baby girl. How I wanted to meet her, how I longed to have our Dr. Lloyd be there to deliver her, how I wanted Jon to be able to come and photograph her first perfect moments of life...
I prayed a lot that week...that things would line up and all would go perfectly, like I wanted it to.

After the second hour I went back to the room, and Kathleen checked me again. Dilated to a 3.5. BLAST. Only another 1/2 a centimeter? Things were happening but UBER slow. Kathleen said she was off to get some meds to send me home...assuring me I would be back within the day to have the baby.

She left the room, and there I was alone with baby in my belly, teary, praying.

I prayed and prayed and prayed.

The monitors were still on. Kathleen didn't come back.
She didn't come back for almost 45 minutes.

When she did come back in, she said,
"Well, I called the Doctor on call (not my doctor...frowny face) and he wants to keep you."

Me: "WHAT?!"

Kathleen had been monitoring me and apparently in the 45 minutes since she had gone my blood pressure had sky-rocketed. (As did the pain level of the contractions which were now coming every 3 minutes).
Dr. Barton wanted to keep me for fear I was becoming preeclamptic.

Even though I felt like garbage...I was having a baby...soon!

Remember when I said Heavenly Father loved me?
Well, He does. A LOT.

I was admitted at 7:00 p.m.







Got my epidural at 9:00 p.m. Alone. Had sent Hubbs home to shower and change
(hello these pictures were going to be eternally shot on FILM...he had to look good.)
Needless to say, big mistake and my contractions went crazy painful after they broke my water (just seconds BEFORE he left.)

I am a wuss but a thankful wuss that there is such wonderful things as epidurals.

Mmm, epidural.

At 10:00 p.m. dilated to a five. Had Hubbs call Jon.
(Even though Hubbs and Kathleen thought I was crazy...they both thought baby wouldn't come for 'quite some time'".)

Jon arrives within the hour:



Don't I look freaking hott for being 9 months pregnant?
(I meant that...really!)



The pitocin, combined with the epidural really sped things along.
Wanna know the cool part? Who ordered the pitocin?

Dr. Lloyd.

Yep, Dr. Barton called him and HE CAME IN!

To deliver Millz.

Tears.

Miracles.



Oh the hilarity when Dr. Lloyd came into check me and I introduced him to our friend Jon.
Dr. was like, "Uhm, do you want him to LEAVE?!"

Funny.
Recall the "hooha" dilemma?

Who cares?
Really?

Anyway, he checks me and I am like at a six. Feeling TOTALLY dumb for calling Jon.
So Hubbs, Jon and I talk for the next hour.



Here I am texting mrs. r so she can give the world the play by play via twitter and facebook.

Thanks Linds.

Also, making Leisha spend tons of money by sending her texts. Get a new plan already okay Leish?





As we are sitting there, the new nurse comes in and I tell her:
"I am feeling a lot of pressure...I think the baby is ready."

So she checks me, and YEP...Millz was ready.

10.













I pushed once.

The world stopped for a moment and the room went silent when we hear,
"The cord is around her neck."

(Okay...)

Apparently all is well, when I push once more and Dr. Lloyd proclaims:
"Baby is out."

11:58 p.m.

Two minutes before my Step-dad's birthday.

What can I say, she wanted her own day.





She is beautiful, everything I imagined her to be and more.

She looks like her big sister, only with slightly smaller cheeks and lips.

Her head is perfectly round.

I bawl.

Hubbs bawls.



I think originally that her mouth is REALLY small, until I get these pictures back from Jon and see this one:



She has the same mouth as her brother and sister.

It is trademarked.



Dark hair. Tiny hands.

I hear her weight: 7lbs 9 ounces.

I proclaim: "She is so small."

Dr. Lloyd informs me that she is not small.

I insist: "Small for ME, she is TINY".

And the following photo which makes me cry to this day and is the entire reason I wanted Jon there to capture this moment, and why everyone needs someone there to capture this moment:



My sweetheart and eternal companion. I love him.
The best daddy ever.

He adores her already.







She is perfect in every way.
Teary.

I still do nothing but hold her.

I am the luckiest girl.

THE LUCKIEST.

All of my dreams have come true.

So will yours.

Keep hoping.

Never, never, never give up hope.

Never.

Newborn Poo, er uh, "Pooh"

Last Wednesday marked two milestones in our house.

The first:





Using the last newborn diaper.

The second:





Smiling...for real, and often.

Both have caused large amounts of weeping from me.

Love her more than words.

Blame it on the hormones...

Image copyright Jonathan Canlas Photography

...but when I got on facebook this morning, the tears began because I didn't expect to see a message from our friend Jon saying that:

these babies were online.

I cannot begin to describe what these photographs do to me.

Go here to see them put together into a beautiful story.

I love my job as a photographer.
I have had the opportunity to photograph two birth stories thus far in my journey.
After having my own birth photographed, I recommend it to EVERYONE.

I would be lying if I said I never had second thoughts about it.

I wasn't sure how I felt letting yet another person see my "hooha" (lol) but seeing these photographs, I could care less, and wish I could rewind time and have Jon there to capture the moments that J-Dawg and Memms entered the world.

The spirit that he captured in that tiny room, the moments of my sweet Hubbs watching his little girl are things that I would have never seen or experienced from my point of view and I thank Jon for capturing that for us in a way that is so beautiful and so sweet and so simple.

Teary, even as I write this, the feelings of that day are so strong in my heart and I know that Heavenly Father loves us so much and it was worth every tear, every heartache to get her here to us.

I encourage anyone to hire someone to capture this kind of special day through beautiful photography, you will never regret it.

If not me, well then you better be calling Jon to do it!

Thank you a million, zillion, billion times over and over Jon...and for coming so quickly after such a long day already.

Our hearts are full and so grateful.

I've been a little busy...

...loving and cuddling on her.

I don't want to miss a moment.

I'll be back, sometime.

"Millz"

Born: July 22, 2009
Weight: 7 pounds 9 ounces
Length: 21.5 inches long