Friday Favorites



Do you see what I see?

The constant hand-gnawing and drool clued us in.

So many pictures. So many memories to record.  So many changes.  Our little boo is already five months old/twenty-one weeks old.  Growing like a weed, we have gone from measuring Ella's feedings in "ml's" to "whole bottles full."  She sits.  She tries to escape from all bouncers, carseats, and cribs.  She is constantly sharing her thoughts with us in her gurgly Chewbaca language.  She loves her feet, the song "Let it Go" from Frozen, and watching people brush their teeth.  Oh, and she has TEETH!  Two tiny chompers in the bottom middle that totally caught us by surprise.  I can hear her future teachers already: "Mrs. Granados, I'm sorry to tell you this, but Ella... well, she bit a classmate today."  Below are some of my favorite pictures from the last week or so. 

Whenever I put Ella in her carseat, I squeal, "We're going on a trippy!" and she gets so excited, regardless of whether we're going to do laundry or see Nana.  She even gets excited to go to the doctor, and rarely cries during any of those trips.  Best errand buddy ever.

Still her favorite part of the day.  



We have hours and hours of fun together.  I love being this special girl's mom.  She is constantly making me smile... laugh... cheering me up if I'm down.  And, of course, she has come to love the camera.  Just look at what a little showoff she is!  Until it gets to the one on the bottom left, and then she's sooo over it.  

Foot-obsessed.  

Sometimes, I look at her and think, "There is no way that huge child is my baby Ella!"  Being the overly-emotional person that I am, I cry about it regularly.  Above, she's taking a nap next to me while I worked on homework.  Oh, that potbelly...! :')

This week, I finally had to start strapping Ella into her bouncer, swing, etc. (don't worry, I always kept a close eye on her when leaving her unstrapped) because she has gotten to the point of sitting up and trying to pull herself out.  She was not too amused with her restraints.  

Ella's Smile

My baby was born with a cleft lip and cleft palate.  The ultrasound tech saw them when I was eighteen weeks pregnant.  Another tech was called into the room and then a doctor and then a genetics specialist, all trying to answer with certainty the question suspended in the air.  Poking and prodding my stomach, they all squinted at the black and white screen above us.

"We're almost positive," the doctor finally proclaimed.  Then they warned me.  Apologized to me.  Warned me some more. 

I was cautioned that along with these birth defects my baby could have a genetic disorder, autism, Downs Syndrome... could not even live long enough to see this world. I smiled, asked all the right questions, agreed to blood tests and follow-ups, and made all the properly-optimistic statements, nodding and smiling.  Nodding and smiling.  Nodding and smiling.   

All the while, heart breaking and burning with sadness, pent-up tears, and the fear that they had instilled in me.   

Since that point of despair, I have learned many lessons; lessons I wish I could communicate to every expectant parent upon receiving such news.  The doctors, techs, and experts meant well, but they did not know what wonderful news they gave me that day.  God knit my beautiful baby together in my womb, perfectly and skillfully, just as He creates every other baby.  He gave her the gap in her lip so that her smile would be wider and happier.  And it is.  She is the most beautiful, most radiantly-smiling baby you'll ever meet, always grinning from ear to ear.  Her smile is my daily joy and my daily reminder to lift my head toward Heaven in gratitude.  

After Edwin got off work that evening months ago, we opened the envelope containing our baby's ultrasound pictures and gender result.  I had requested that the tech not tell me the gender during the appointment, but rather seal the results in an envelope so I could share the moment with Edwin.  When we read "It's a girl!", we both burst into tears of happiness.  Regardless of all the other news we had receieved that day, our thankfulness blotted it all out.  We named her then -- Ella, which means "whole, complete."