Today Priscilla turns seven, and that marks seven years of motherhood.
Lately these days I’ve been waking up with the urge to scroll my phone, going back into the archives of my photo roll and look at the photos I took (in abundance, of course) of when Priscilla was a newborn. I would surely consider myself nostalgic, but there’s this odd fixation I have with those early August days of 2018. I don’t believe my life began when I became a mother, but it shifted so profoundly, so immensely. It is a vocation that has shaped me in ways I don’t believe anything else could. This is the part of my identity that has transformed, stretched, illuminated, and imprinted me the very most. I love looking at those old photos, not because I want to go back (because it wasn’t an easy season), but because of the emotions it creates in me:
Look at how dated her clothing suddenly is. Seven years is rounding towards a decade, after all.
How my cool, tattooed boyfriend turned into a devoted midwestern dad seemingly overnight who rushed home from work to see us and hold his baby and say things like “holy cow!” in a Minnesotan accent.
The life we have now stretched ahead of us, without either of us really knowing what would come, of course.
How quiet and slow my days felt in that condo. Cilla preferred to contact nap so sometimes I’d just sit on the couch and watch Lifetime or Hallmark movies while she slept on my chest.
The way the long nights felt sitting up in bed, nursing, and then scrolling my phone, or else spying on our neighbors across the street from us. I’d watch the HCMC doctors come home from shift work in their scrubs. My favorite were the party animals a few floors above us who were up like me at 3am, but seemingly by choice.
Going for walks in Gold Medal Park, along the river, in our brand new stroller and watching the leaves just begin to turn bright oranges and reds, staring at this perfectly precious baby girl overdressed in a pink wool bunting.
I think what I am nostalgic for this: the beginning of our story. It feels miraculous.
Priscilla at seven is a true delight. We celebrated this morning with our tradition of donuts and new tradition of the celebration ring. Since we had a party last month, we kept today small and relaxed. I made Cilla a little scrapbooking kit and album that she loves.
Our Priscilla is thoughtful, kind, considerate, hard working, intelligent, and so so beautiful.
