Today is an anniversary of sorts.
Exactly one year ago: Sunday, October 10th, 2008, there was wailing and gnashing of teeth. There was profuse eating of mass quantities and varieties of chocolate. There were boxes upon boxes upon boxes of tissues being used. There were lighthearted movies about childbirth being watched.
Exactly one year ago today there were seven (onetwothreefourfivesixSEVEN) pregnancy tests lined up on my bathroom counter. And one year ago today I was scouring the internet to find if there had ever been a case of seven false positives.
There had not.
It boggles my mind how much life can change in a year.
Here I am, governer of Alaska, hoping against all hope that no-one noticed the five pounds I had already gained.
Three 1/2 months along over Christmas break. We didn't know it at the time but Evie's cousin, Sophi, was already on her way, too.
About seven days late: a very pregnant, very anxious Ashley. I wish I would have listened to the dozens of people who told me to enjoy those last few weeks as a family of two (sorry, Bear: a family of three).
And here is the best surprise I have ever gotten; just hours old.
And now, FOUR months after her birth, we are remembering the day we found out we would be having a baby. Life has never been so full.