Michelle took this self-portrait of herself, had me print it out when we got back here, then fringed the edges for me to use in my journal. She's so creative and always goes right to my journal whenever she visits.
Snuggling with Uncle Nay and Gunka, her great grandfather.
Fooling around. ***************** I remember the night she was born. Spitting snow. Middle of the night. A forty-five minute drive to the hospital through Pinkham Notch and around Dead Man's Curve. My mother-in-law and I arriving at the hospital and finding the maternity ward by following Erin's screams. Waiting impatiently for the little boy (Erin didn't want to know the sex ahead of time but we were pretty sure from the video ultrasound that it was a boy.) to be born, imagining trucks and blue and baseball... Then, quiet..."I think the baby was just born because there are no more screams." Then the nurse led me into her room. Arms out, Erin says as I hug her, "Mom, it hurt so much!" "I know." Then she looked at me and said, "Mommy, it's a girl!" And there she was nestled in her dad's arms. "Do you want to hold her?" "Oh, yes!" And I've been hugging her, literally and figuratively, since.