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Sufjan Stevens | “Christmas Unicorn”

This song came on Spotify while I was washing pots, Steven was wearing Anabel in the Moby wrap facing outward. He started bobbing up and down while I danced and twirled on the tile in front of her. Her face started burning with elation. Her mouth fell open into a vast gummy smile. Laughs coming straight from the pit of her belly. Over and over again. I love being even just a small source of her joy. And I just don't ever want to forget how happy my heart is at this moment. 

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I feel like I am raising my best friend.

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Ana, the elf.

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And if your daughter came to you, crying with hunger, would you tell her no? Would you tell her she is too fat, she wants too much, she must shrink into society? No. Then why would you tell yourself the exact same thing? You are somebody’s daughter.

Michelle K. (via kelsi-recovers)

I literally have this internal struggle every day of my life.

(via kaitmpayne)

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Life is so different. I am a much sleepier, emotional, weepier, unkempt human being (read: hot mess), but my heart is so happy. I do not know how I lived without her for so long. I said it before, and I'll say it one-hundred times again (because I just don't know how else to put it) - she is everything. 

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in the end i want my heart to be covered in stretch marks

Andrea Gibson  (via ceedling)

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All at once I see the significance in that insignificant high five, that insignificant car ride, that insignificant adolescent first kiss.

The significance in an almost eight pound child draped across my chest. A girl with your golden hair, marble eyes, full eyelashes, and narrow heels. The girl that has my chin - inherited straight from my grandfather, puckered lips, and pointed ears. A baby with my grandmother's name. Miniature and marveling. A being comprised of the very two of us. 

A girl. A beautiful, strong willed, happy, significant twelve-day-old girl.

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Anabel Diane is here.

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I am not the first person you loved. You are not the first person I looked at with a mouthful of forevers. We have both known loss like the sharp edges of a knife. We have both lived with lips more scar tissue than skin. Our love came unannounced in the middle of the night. Our love came when we’d given up on asking love to come. I think that has to be part of its miracle. This is how we heal. I will kiss you like forgiveness. You will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms will bandage and we will press promises between us like flowers in a book. I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat on your skin. I will write novels to the scar of your nose. I will write a dictionary of all the words I have used trying to describe the way it feels to have finally, finally found you. And I will not be afraid of your scars. I know sometimes it’s still hard to let me see you in all your cracked perfection, but please know: whether it’s the days you burn more brilliant than the sun or the nights you collapse into my lap your body broken into a thousand questions, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I will love you when you are a still day. I will love you when you are a hurricane.

Clementine von Radics, Mouthful of Forevers  (via thatkindofwoman)

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The Shower.

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Playing the waiting game.

We've already got a nearly eight pound baby in there, so I am crossing my fingers she comes soon!(!!!!!)

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I have my legs extended across the majority of our couch, a restless bare belly, tiny feet tap dancing behind my rib cage. The man I love wrapped around my left leg, fast asleep after pressing the tightness out of my puffy ankles. Our home dark and creaking. Mere days away from meeting our daughter.

I am convinced now that my body is carrying all of the love that it can possibly hold, to the very inch-  but I know I will be proven unmistakably wrong the moment my eyes meet hers.

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All at once we were madly, clumsily, shamelessly, agonizingly in love with each other.

Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita (via murmurrs)

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I cannot believe I will have been carrying my babe for 37 weeks tomorrow. So excited to ring in that milestone in with my girl, MC. 

Shot some maternity photos of this gorgeous mama last night. 

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My alone feels so good, I’ll only have you if you’re sweeter than my solitude.

Warsan Shire (via kaleb-brinegar)