My Sweet Eliza June,
Tonight you fell asleep with your hand under my cheek. We lay there together as you wiggled yourself still. I watched the curve of your nose, the thin line of your lips. I tried to memorize your tiny face in the early summer light as your eyelids grew heavy.
You are my girl. [Read More]
When I was pregnant with Eliza I couldn’t write a word. I could barely manage more than a few-sentence email. I thought if I started typing, I might never stop. This last month I’ve been feeling the same way with this pregnancy. One word and I keep thinking the dam holding back a tsunami of emotion will break, the stitching holding me together will come unraveled. [Read More]