Zoe’s one month old today! We celebrated with a lot of yelling and poop, but we had cookies beforehand. That made the whole thing work out. Of course, a couple shots of the birthday girl:
A lot of cool stuff has run through my mind this first month: the excitement of seeing Zoe actually live, the fun of taking care of our little girl, even when she beats me up or trashes another shirt for me, the fun of strolling her around the block, and just seeing her progress as she keeps on growing and zoing.
One thing has stood out to me the most these past couple of weeks. I like breathing. I think I’ve gone near this road before, but it’s worth saying now. Breathing is good. Zoe coming out alive and healthy marked the first time all year that I haven’t been scared to death and could start breathing normally again. It sounds simple, but it is so much better right now than what I’d seen for a year. This little girl was an instrument to take a billion pound weight off my chest, and now things are so possible again. Instead, there’s eight little pounds of possibility (and poop, because that happens a lot).
When a person can breathe, a person can accomplish zo much more.