this time last year.

as i draw closer and closer to the days that changed my life forever, i keep thinking a lot about this time last year.

this time last year, i was on maternity leave and anxiously awaiting the birth of my baby. i didn't know if i'd be meeting asa iris or asa milo.

this time last year, i excitedly timed braxton-hicks contractions over and over again until they fizzled out in my sleep.

this time last year, i was planning an unmedicated vaginal birth. i wanted to snuggle my baby against my chest and start breastfeeding right away. i wanted to be the first person to hold the tiny person who grew in my body.

instead, i was asleep when my daughter was born after a looooong, painful, medicated labor and unplanned c-section. i was far from the first person to hold her. strangers on the internet saw my baby before i ever laid eyes on her. there are pictures of her first hours on earth that still devastate me to see. after all of that work, all of the pain, i was unconscious for her first breath, her first cries, all of it. instead of nuzzling into her mama's chest and daddy's arms, she came into the world with neither parent present. nothing went as planned, except that she was here and wonderfully healthy. thank goodness for that.

i think i've come to terms with her birth. i've accepted the c-section as something that had to happen. it's fine, really. in the last few months, i've felt as though i was doing better, that maybe i was finally over it all. but then i started thinking about this time last year, when i was so hopeful about becoming someone's mama. and when i think about that, i realize how much i still ache from what happened after her birth.

seven hours after asa's birth when we finally met, despite the pain and swelling and tears, despite the IVs and blood pressure cuffs and heart rate monitors, i needed to snuggle my daughter against my chest. she needed to be home, with her mama.

this is how one looks after 58 hours of hard labor, major surgery, and 7 hours under general anesthesia.

i see so many first photos of mamas and babies. mamas looking exhausted but triumphant, babies feeling peace to be back home. our first meeting didn't look like that. i was so sick and so numb, i barely remember how it felt. all i know is that i held her close, as close as i could, and tried to pretend she wasn't seven hours old.

in exactly one week, asa will be one. in exactly one week, i hope seeing this photo will hurt less. i'll have a full year of amazing experiences with my daughter. i'll be able to say, this time last year, i held my daughter for the first time. i helped her stop crying just by holding my face near hers. i tried my hardest to nourish her with my milk. this time last year, i became her mama. 

i have so much to be thankful for, asa. so much. you're healing me every day, baby girl. next year, this time last year will look marvelous.