Journey to The Weez

As of 1:50 last Friday morning Weezy was officially 6 weeks old. In typical obsessed mommy fashion (I am truly, weirdly obsessed with my daughter... I crave her smell even when she is a little ripe. Sick? Maybe.) I already feel nostalgic over her youth. Sigh. My stiches still haven't completely healed yet already I remember her delivery with warm fuzziness (though after re-reading my yet-to-be-shared birth-story, I am reminded it was definitly not warm or fuzzy). I cannot believe how much bigger she is; I cried when she outgrew my fave pj's (they have ruffles on the butt for Lord's sakes!). The only consolation is that with getting older she is doing new and fascintating things like smiling and and moving all four limbs at the same time- kind of like the Roger Rabbit dance move to all you children of the 80's. Also, apparently her eyes can speak the words she cannot yet say: Brakes swore that her eyes said, "Back off, D-bag," last night when he was changing a dirty dipe (when he leaned over she grabbed his chest hair and would not let go! Ouch!). Her eyes are obviously gifted.

So in the spirit of nostalgia I will share a pictorial timeline of the events leading up to Weezy's existence:

This little guy was my secret weapon in my TTC (trying to concieve) campaign. We met my gorgeous nephew, Roscoe, at Christmas. By Valentines Day I'd convinced Brakes to "pull the goalie":

This pic was taken 15 days before the Weez was concieved at my cousin Kristy's bridal shower. I was enjoying several pre-pregnancy mojitos with my mom (on the left), Kristy, and Meghann (my sister, on the right). Please note how thin I am.
Here are some of the dozen tests Brakes made me take before he conceded that I might be pregnant:
He still wasn't convinced until he saw this:

Apparently he needed it spelled out for him.

Soon I went from this: To this: To this (yikes!):



Then, after 6 hours of agony, we got this:

And we've never felt so lucky!

Happy 6-week birthday, Baby Girl!

XOXO