You’re six months old, Henry James.

That’s 1/2 of a year.

2/3 of a pregnancy.

2 maternity leaves.

2 seasons, or in our case, about 3/4 of one Wyoming winter.

28 weeks.

200 days you’ve been in our lives.

We’ve been through roughly 1,600 feedings and 2,000 diaper changes.

You’re two months old, Henry, and it’s true what they say. It goes too fast. I said it when you were one month old, and I posted a picture of you in our rocking chair.

Hi, hello. It’s been a minute (like a year and a halfish?) since I’ve contributed to the blog. But you know, life. A whole lot of it.

I have a lot that is in progress on this blog, some unfinished projects, updates to make to my site, drafts that I started months ago, and constant ideas in my head that I’ve been meaning to get down. But I’ve also been busy with another thing over the past year: I grew a human! And he’s pretty amazing.

There’s so much that I could talk about (maternity finds, my pregnancy must-haves, baby registry tips, my infinite wisdom from the first few weeks of being a parent, the list goes on). And hopefully one of these days, (or years, let’s be real) I will. But for now, I wanted to write down the story of how Henry James joined us in the world. I’ve enjoyed reading birth stories on other blogs recently (weird how your interests change to match your new experiences, right?) so naturally, I thought I should get WAY too personal and long-winded on the internet just in case maybe someone will enjoy hearing mine.