8 days ago, I was writing a letter to my postpartum self.

Today, I have a 7-day old little girl.  Our pink buddha.  Our fraggle.  I can’t stop inhaling her.  I can’t get enough of her little squeaks, her tiny toes.  She sneezes and the roof lifts and she farts like a trucker.  We are smitten.

So…my little pickle’s birth story… Continue reading →