What A Difference A Year Makes

A year ago yesterday, we had our first glance of The Babyman’s wee face, during a 3-D ultrasound in my 29th week. Twenty-nine weeks! I still had 10 weeks to go at that point, and I was counting every second. I did not want to be pregnant anymore. And the worst of those nine months was yet to come!

I wasn’t sure I wanted to be not pregnant anymore, either. The idea of two children was abstract—and terrifying. Especially after seeing this:

Alien or baby? We weren't sure.

But this morning, I was showered and dressed before either of them woke up. I got them fed, ate my own breakfast and dressed them, all before 9:45 a.m. I did it instinctively; without thought. Handily, even, not stopping once to ponder the logistics.

We are a family of four now.

When it occurred to me that yesterday was a milestone of sorts, I grabbed my camera and snapped a few shots of The Babyman as he played in the Tupperware cupboard before dinner. As I processed the photographs last night, I was struck full-force at what a difference a year makes:

I can’t wait to see what he looks like on June 3, 2010.