So, as we approach Sena's first birthday and I get over my shock at how quickly an entire year has passed, I'm dealing with all sorts of conflicting emotions. It started when my nurse from Sena's birth showed up for my prenatal class last week. I'm pretty sure that I spent most of my class just trying to keep my head focused and not say things like, "stand on your elbows," which I'm known to do anyway. It was just such a trip that the last time I saw this lovely woman I was in the throws of trying to push Sena into this world.
Anyway, about a year ago, while I was waiting and waiting for Sena to arrive, we had Amy Wadlington come and photograph my growing belly. I know many women who hated being pregnant, but for me, I loved it. I mean- LOVE. I absolutely loved the connection that we shared. I remember feeling sad that I couldn't feel that connection anymore, and almost longed for my belly. (Demented? Perhaps.) A year ago, my mother-in-law and I would go walking as often as possible, trying to bring little Sena into the world. And, I would spend my other hours organizing, reorganizing, and then dismantling whatever I organized. My nesting instinct was more like a hurricane plowing through my home. Anything was fair game. I'm pretty sure that Steven hid anything valuable just to be sure I didn't throw it away or donate it to whatever charity was driving through the neighborhood that day. Anyway, approximately one year ago, I looked like this:
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