So Finn. I was in a fog the entire pregnancy. Nothing felt right. I didn't want to sew. I didn't want to cook. I didn't want to eat (but I managed). I didn't want to go anywhere. Nothing was funny. Everything was hard. I remember sitting in the lobby at church one Sunday. Mavis was misbehaving, as she is wont to do. I was sitting on the couch with her while the meeting was going on, and I was sobbing. I could not take another minute of life. A sweet friend came and put her arm around me. It was a good thing she did, too, because a not so sweet man thought it was a good time to tell me to "enjoy these moments because they go by so fast." Um. Right. I was in the 9th circle of hell. But I'll be sure to have a good time.
As soon as Finn was born, all was right with the world. He was huge: 10 lb 4 oz. He was sweet from the beginning. The past 6 months have passed by in a blur. We've gone from him nursing every 2 hours to him eating rice cereal and applesauce. He sits up on his own. He smiles and giggles and flirts with anyone who stops to look at him. And me? I sew. I cook. I clean. I do the laundry (but I don't like to fold it).
We all love Finnegan.