I’m getting very nostalgic this month, as Ezra’s first birthday approaches.
A year ago, Claire emailed me that she felt like a “whale who swallowed an army of angry blowfish.” We all did. My emails to Sandy had a constant refrain: “your stupid giant baby has the stupid hiccups again.”
But it was a sweet, special time, too, when some of my most important friendships were cemented, as we waddled into Julius Meinl and gorged on crazy pastries and compared symptoms and signs of impending labor.
Happy first anniversary of being the pregnant-est, Bloom Baby Mamas.