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I know you, Baby.

I know you, Baby. I’ve heard your voice and smelled your smell. Your face brings back long July nights in 2010 and cool November days in 2012. Sometimes in the middle of the night I’d SWEAR I’m nursing a different baby. A baby from my memory.

But you aren’t either of those babies. You are YOU. You have your own habits, your own face, your own needs. Somehow your babyhood is now a culmination of my experience mothering newborns. I’m so glad to already know you and know what to expect. I’m so thankful for these sweet, late night memories of days gone by and babies who are grown.

I’m also thankful that my experience with them means a more peaceful experience with you. I love that you remind me of your sisters. I love that I see their faces in yours and hear their voices and smell their smells. I so enjoy learning about YOU though. My son. My last baby.

You just got here, but I’m so glad to already know you.

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