Sadie Ann // 18 Months Old

Watching your babies grow up is a curious thing. At every age and stage I think to myself, I love this age, I wish she wouldn't grow up. I'm particularly loving 18 months. 

Sadie Ann is constantly learning. 

She looks, listens, observes, and takes in everything. 

She imitates words, sounds, and intonations. 

She uses signs and {mostly} follows directions. 

She loves exploring new things. 

This girl loves life. 

She says dada, kay-kay for Katie, and nana for mama. 

She loves going outside and playing in the grass or with leafs off of the tree. 

She's warming up to her sister - she gives her kisses, plays with her feet, and gives her her paci. 

Sadie Ann is a wonderful eater - some of her favorite foods are avocado, banana, 

canned beets, butter beans, sharp cheddar, and tomatoes. 

Her crawl is lightening fast. 

She is able to stand and balance for several minutes at a time. 

She's taking a couple steps and it's just a matter of time before she is running around our home. 

She loves riding her bike and helping bake sweet treats.  

She loves saying her prayers and shouting Amen! 

She feels all genres of music deep in her soul and lets her body show it - this girls loves dancing! 

Her personality, happiness, and love for life make every single day and joy just to be in her presence. I'm so fortunate to have such a blessing and a miracle in my life everyday. 

This 1 pound, 6 ounces 11.5 inch baby is now 17 pounds, 3 ounces and 28.5 inches long!

Happy 18 months, big girl! 

Making a Mess

It's only recently that Sadie Ann has been interested in touching her food. It's a preemie thing - sensory issues and aversions to different textures through touching and tasting. Her pediatrician encouraged me to just put food on her table every time she ate and she's eventually warm up to it. She was right. SA doesn't mind slimy or mushy textures as much anymore - and she has no problem with them when she can also play with a spoon. 

So a messy photo shoot was produced! 

This happened last week and I quickly learned, much like Sadie Ann, that I also had an aversion; however, mine was to making a mess. I'm definitely not a clean freak or control freak, but it turns out letting my baby make a mess with her food makes me slightly uncomfortable. Fortunately, her adorableness and enjoyment help me to quickly get over it. 

Is it hard for any of you mothers to just let the babies be babies?

A Long December

There were times in the past year where I found myself jotting down emotions and thoughts through those darker, harder moments. I've smushed them all together to make a post for anyone going through a difficult journey. We all walk different paths and our darkness can look different, but the one constant is that the Light and our faith are able to take precedence in the hardest of times. 

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And it's been a long December

And there's reason to believe

Maybe this year will be better than the last


December 2014.

That month seemed to carry on long after all the calendars were thrown away and forgotten. A couple weeks following their birth it was a new year, but nothing felt new. Nothing changed. There were no resolutions and no excitement. It was just another day. 




The weeks following December 15, 2014 felt like a bad dream - the kind where you know what's going on. You can see it all, but everything around you is blurred and dark. Except the fear in front of you. There's a spotlight shining down on that so you don't forget about it. All of your pain and fear is illuminated. And even worse than that, there is no escape. 




During that time, I feared this feeling would linger far longer than I wanted or could even handle. That the darkness that continuously hovered and hung over my shoulders would never lift away. It was difficult to see ahead because the fear and pain were blinding. Hope seemed out of my grasp. 

Shamefully, I was scared to love my daughter. Of course I loved her, but readily giving her any large part of myself seemed careless because the fear of losing her was greater than anything else in my small world. I wasn't capable of losing another child. I couldn’t do it. Fear took over my faith and life was miserable. 

Looking back and attempting to captivate the emotions I felt during this time is a bit overwhelming. My life had become the perfect storm for pain. The present was devastating and the future was unpredictable, but worse than being unpredictable, it was mostly grim. Those emotions and memories will forever be so vivid in my mind. When I think back, it becomes a feeling that I will always remember. The memories hit me in the gut and I remember what it felt like to have my life shattered into pieces just lying around me – out of reach and unrepairable. 

Those feelings, the sounds, the smells, the view of my fragile baby, and the wondering of my own thoughts, when revived in my mind, hurt just as badly as they did at the time, but coming out on the other side makes them bearable when I do go back to that time.

I've mentioned before I try to never question God. That's not my role. But I do specifically remember the drive to the funeral home. It was two days after the girls' birth and Mary Elliott's death. Chris and I were in the car alone. Hand in hand. It was dark and cloudy with a slight mist in the air. The weather seemed to mirror our emotions. As we turned off our street, I verbalized the cold truth. We were 30 years old and driving to the funeral home to discuss the plans for our late daughter. At that moment I confessed to God that I just didn't understand. Why are we driving to see and kiss our baby girl for the last time? With the gift of time, I’ve come to realize that trying to comprehend the whys in life isn’t always necessarily my role. It’s easy to worry yourself to the point of sickness when you dwell on trying to figure out everything. Thankfully, my faith has allowed me to have peace and trust in God’s reasons – it’s not always easy, but it is enough. 

The smell of hospitals in winter

And the feeling that it's all a lot of oysters, but no pearls

All at once you look across a crowed room

To see the way that light attaches to a girl

Being in the hospital in winter - through the holiday and through the new year - it's a very eerie feeling. Something you don't want to experience. It's sad. Not just for the reasons you are there, but also for the unknown reasons everyone you pass is in there. It's uncomfortable. Like being homesick. There was nowhere else we would have been, but it also felt like being a prisoner. 

Despite the chilling sounds of monitors, the spotlight shining down on my fragile, weak daughter, and grim updates from doctors in those first few weeks, as time passed and I was able to pull myself together, deep in my heart, I had peace. I had this undeniable feeling that our daughter would leave that NICU perfectly healthy. All statistics were against her, but I was beginning to see a beautiful outcome - a healthy one we wanted for our daughter before she was even conceived. 

I've never talked about this feeling of peace I had, but it was very present. It wasn't immediate, but it wasn't long after the start of her journey. We hadn't received much good news and she wasn't close to passing any milestones, but I knew. 

I specifically remember hearing from nurses or other professionals different possible scenarios - “preemies usually have… this or that... to deal with throughout the rest of their lives.” I received the information as something to possibly prepare us for if/when that time came, but I also remember, a lot of the time, thinking not our Sadie Ann, she’s strong and is an overcomer. Her story is different. I felt like her being a micropreemie was more so a means to an end. And that’s what my mindset became. This was the peace that passed all understanding (Philippians 4:7). It never made the journey easy, but it restored all my hope and did help me make it through those hard days. 

And that peace I had proved to be her story. 

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So it finally feels like that year is over. 

I'm thankful to put this past year behind me. I didn't know if it would ever end and then it was over before I could catch my breath. This year has been so significant in my life - it's has strengthened my faith, strengthened my relationship with my husband, it has taught me that even in the depths of great sorrow, great pain, great fear, and unpredictable futures there can be light. There can be significant lessons learned. It is possible to walk out of a storm better off and stronger than you ever imagined. 

Although the pain of loss carries on for a lifetime, the joy of children and motherhood (whether they are in your arms or not) also carries on. And it's a gift I’ll treasure for the rest of my life. 

Despite an undesirable year, we are thankful. 

We move forward. 

And we can laugh again.

She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future.

Proverbs 31:25

To My Daughter on Her First Birthday

My darling Sadie Ann,

It has taken me quite a bit longer to write this letter than what I initially thought. I guess really sitting down and wrapping my mind around the reality that you are one year old is a lot more difficult than I even imagined. It seems surreal because time, in this past year, has lost it's meaning and become the biggest blur of my life.

In the days and weeks following your birth, there was no certainty of a celebratory birthday in your future - that was our reality a year ago. And yet, here we are. Celebrating and thanking the Ultimate Physician for everything you've overcome. Your strength. Your willingness to fight and preserver. In your short, one year life, you've faced more than some face in a lifetime. You've proven that 23 weekers should be given the chance to be called "viable" (mommy, hates that word!). And through this past year, you've already been an inspiration to so many. You've introduced faith to some, restored faith for others, brought people to their knees for the first time, and provided motivation for others.

A year ago I couldn't touch you. Your chance at surviving was small. If you did survive, it was likely that you would have significant health issues beyond the NICU. We were told that you'd face pulmonary difficulty throughout your life. We were told the extra steroids you required for your lungs could possibly cause brain damage and developmental deficits. We were told you could likely never walk due to a growing brain hemorrhage. We were told your prematurity and need for oxygen would most likely result in some degree of blindness. But, we were also told every baby is different.

You crushed the NICU. The first two months were challenging and terrifying, but once you were finally off of your breathing machine (it was a long 59 days) you took off! Two months after that we carried you out of those doors and welcomed you home. You left that NICU without any need for medication or supplemental oxygen, your brain bleeds resolved, and a few months later you were cleared by the retina specialist and pediatric ophthalmologist with perfect vision. Seeing who you are a year later, it's hard to believe where you started out.

So many people you've never met - that mommy and daddy never met - have prayed for you. Have been on their knees crying out for your health. You are easily the most prayed for human that I know. And even greater than that, the God of this Universe, took the time to listen to all of our cries and answer them. You are a beautiful example of the power of prayer. Your story will always include a world-wide group of prayer warriors.

Despite all the trails and hardships you've faced, you are happy. The constant smile on your face reminds me daily of how far you've come. Your laugh brings me to tears because of all it represents - strong lungs, typical brain function, social skills, and, of course, a baby that is happy. Your personality shines bright every day. Your idiosyncrasies melt my heart. I adore the sounds you make, how serious you become when you're "talking", I love how you aimlessly rub my hand or chest when you are drinking your bottle as you fall asleep, my heart explodes hearing the sweet sounds you make right before you fall asleep, I love starting every single day receiving a smile from you as I walk into your room to get you out of your bed, I love how you root into my chest when you're tired, I love the excitement on your face when I give you two play cups to bang together, I love how you absolutely lose control in complete happiness when I start singing You Are My Sunshine - but the truth is you are.

I've never experienced this type of joy and happiness simply by loving another human being. My love for you is indescribable. It's only a feeling that I have the complete pleasure of feeling every day and for the rest of my life.

You are my sunshine, my joy, and my love.

Mommy loves you more than you will ever know. Happy first birthday, baby girl!

xo,
Mommy

A SURPRISE Pregnancy

And it was a BIG surprise.

To say we were shocked to learn this news is an incredible understatement. We were not trying, this was not our plan; this happened completely unassisted by any medication, nurses, doctors, or procedures. I actually wasn't on any medication at all - I'd ditched it all. But that makes the fact that this happened even more so unbelievable. A complete miracle. Our second miracle.

I've passed 12 weeks. Which is a big milestone - especially since my body has done all the work by itself. Typically 12 weeks is considered a safe zone, but after your water breaks at 16 weeks and you deliver at 23 weeks, you realize there is no safe zone in pregnancy. So every week that rolls over means there's one behind us and for that we are thankful.

I learned of this surprise on September 20th, a Sunday night. I went to the bathroom to take a shower - a complete luxury these days. As my shower water was warming, I decided to take a pregnancy test. I did not think I was pregnant. At all. I only knew it was getting close to two months since my last cycle and although I typically have longer cycles, this was getting to be the longest since giving birth.

I took the test thinking knowing it would be negative. Hoping a negative test would tell my brain to tell my body to go ahead and get this show on the road! I cared so little about that test, I decided to not even wait around, but to go ahead and shower and then I'd just look at it afterwards. For some reason, I needed to go back to my counter to get something and when I glanced down I saw a bright, strong line. I initially thought it was the control line, but after closer examination, I realized it was in fact the test line.

My jaw dropped. My hands covered my mouth. I stared at myself in the mirror. What?

My first reaction was tears. I cried for a lot of reasons. I was shocked and surprised. In denial that this was real life. I was scared. My mind was not prepared for another pregnancy so soon after such a traumatic experience. I'd even recently began to consider the idea of Sadie Ann being an only child. So this hit me in the gut, really hard.

I went on to shower and afterwards ended up in Sadie Ann's nursery. Sitting in her rocking chair. I lost it. I was sobbing. Juggling a hundred different emotions. Chris eventually came in, holding Sadie Ann. He walked in on me crying and I saw the fear in his face. He asked me four, five times, What's wrong, Linley?

Nothing was wrong.

Then I told him. I'm pregnant.

Through my tears I saw his jaw drop and then a smile come across his face. He was comforting, also in shock, but immediately happy. He looked to Sadie Ann and told her she was going to be a big sister. Seeing him completely happy (doing a great job of hiding any fear he might have been feeling) about the news helped me to gather myself and dry the tears.

God definitely likes to remind us that we don't make our own plans. As I mentioned earlier, I had recently began to think we would just be a family of three. At one point in my life I wanted four children. At this point, I was completely content with one. Even if we were to have more children, it would be several years from now. I knew I wanted to give everything I had to Sadie Ann these first three or four years of her life. And after finding out I was pregnant, this is what I struggled with the most. I was immediately worried she wouldn't get every ounce of me that she deserved.

I was wrapped up in this idea for a while.

Then, in a conversation with Chris, he said she will never know the difference. And he was right. God used that simple sentence to completely turn my fear and emotions around. If anything, she's going to love having a baby in the house. Someone so close in age as they are growing up. And that makes me smile.

Today I am 15 weeks and 4 days. Even into the second trimester, sometimes this just doesn't seems real. Then I catch a glimpse of my growing belly and am reminded this is very real. In the past week, I've even began to feel the baby flip and move about - a feeling I didn't realize I missed so badly. Today I took a nap with Sadie Ann. She was snuggled up with me. I had her in my arms and could feel the baby flipping and I felt so blessed. I was laying there surrounded by two blessings and two miracles. And Katie.

Next week is 16 weeks. I'm obviously juggling a bit of fear, but like I discussed with my OBGYN, this baby was not our plan, it was God's. That fact gives me confidence that He will protect me and the baby and carry us to full term without any unexpected events - restoring our hope in pregnancy. That's my prayer. Every single day.

I'm having ultrasounds every other week to check my cervix -  checking the length and to make sure there is no funneling or concerning issues. So far so good! We're doing an extra one next week just because it's week 16 - mainly for my peace of mind.

Right now my mind is at peace. Even though I had no desire to become pregnant any time soon, I'm thankful to have this experience again. An experience I didn't know if I was willing to ever give a second chance.

Thoughts on the Night Before Our First Halloween a Year Later

Tonight in this household, we go to bed with heavy hearts and a lump in our throats.  

A year ago, I woke the following morning and everything changed; Halloween 2014 was the epitome of everything can change in an instant - because it did. The situation changed. Our lives changed. The course of the life we pictured changed. My faith changed. Everything in my head changed.

Reliving the fear of that moment and that day doesn't get easier. It continues to be the most chilling, terrifying moment of my life up to that point. Within seconds of waking up, and going about my morning the same way I had for the past several weeks, I was screaming in fear. It felt like a gallon of fluid left my body and was now a puddle on my bathroom floor. I was helpless. Desperate for it to be a dream. I was certain I was hours, even minutes, away from losing my twins. As a woman, a mother, a soon to be mother... when your water breaks at 16 weeks 5 days you immediately think the worse. We hadn't even had time within this pregnancy to come up with a game plan in case of an emergency. What was next? Do I wait and see my doctor Monday morning? Do I rush to the hospital? Am I in labor? Call an ambulance? Accept that at this point in the pregnancy that the babies may already be gone? There was no emergency plan for 16 weeks gestation. There were no pre-packed bags to grab on the way out. There was no calm moment to take in our home one last time, just the two of us. There was only panic and fear. Complete chaos dancing in my mind.

In some ways this day was more frightening than the day I delivered at just 23 weeks. I'm not sure why. Perhaps because there was no warning. There was no mental preparation or plan for this moment. When you enter into a situation that wasn't planned and poses great tragedy, there's almost no recovering from the initial shock. In this particular moment, my fear was bigger than my faith. I could not remove my eyes or thoughts from what had happened and what it meant for the future of our daughters.

In these tough, scary, and challenging situations, people are quick to advise you that God will never give you more than you can handle. It sounds nice, but this is not true. There is no verse in the Bible that says this. It's merely an attempt to psychologically encourage someone that they can do it, but by falsely using God's intentions. Why would we ever need God if all situations could be handled independently?

Shortly after being admitted to Labor and Delivery and learning that if my girls had any chance of surviving I needed to first, not go into labor and second, to be on bed rest at least until 24 weeks gestation. At 16 weeks, 24 weeks sounds like it's years away. Just making it through the weekend was already going to be the biggest challenge of my life and now the best case scenario was laying there for the next eight weeks. This realization quickly taught me that I could not do this on my own. I needed God every day and every second of the day for the next eight weeks minimum. He was faithful to be there and provide. Through nurses, doctors, out of town family continuously there, friends that visited and brought food, family, friends, and strangers that prayed, keeping contractions away, keeping infection away, and keeping the girls in place while helping them to grow daily. It was a tough seven weeks being on hospital bed rest, but a lot of beauty was also revealed through God's help. 

Waking up on Halloween 2014, a year later wasn't even comprehendible. But here we are. We're living. We're smiling. We're laughing. We're moving forward. Our hearts are always a bit broken and empty from the pain of the loss of our Mary Elliott, but our hearts are also overflowing with love, happiness, and gratitude as we watch Sadie Ann grow and thrive. This is not the picture of my family I imagined a year ago, but I'm also not perfect at writing life's stories. God is. And our story is beautiful.

Every Halloween from this point forward will remind me of the emotions and pain that I never could have predicted. It will always be a hard day as it was the start of an incredibly difficult journey. Tomorrow we face our first Halloween that will always trigger these memories. But tomorrow we also wake up thankful. For lessons learned. Faith that has grown. Thankful for the past year behind us. Thankful for the upcoming year ahead of us.  

A Necessary Evil: Going Back to the NICU

So I'm just going to get straight to it.

We're heading back to the NICU late next week. Sadie Ann is going to have laser eye surgery. 


Sadie Ann saw her retina eye specialist yesterday for her weekly eye exam yesterday. The previous week her doctor mentioned that surgery could be a possibility; this week the possibility turned into a certainty.

Her eyes are continuing to do well following the Avastin injections she received back in February. There hasn't been any signs of the ROP returning - which is great! However, the concern is that the injections cause the vessels to grow significantly slower than what they should (which is expected) and at her particular gestational age (which is late 40's) those vessels should have grown into stage three of the eyes and hers are still in stage two.

The injections are a fairly new intervention, but what the retina specialists who give the injections across the south-east have seen is that those babies who are around 50-weeks gestation and whose blood vessels are still in stage two of the eye later redevelop the ROP when they get to 60, 70, or 80 weeks gestation. At that time, the ROP moves quickly. There's a risk of significant vision loss if not immediately identified and treated. And typically around that time babies are too big to perform surgery in the NICU and too small to be in an actual OR, so they have to go to a different facility in a different city. Doing the procedure now is more-so preventative - and permanent. It eleminates the fear of ROP coming back.

Following surgery, there will no longer be a need for weekly retina exams - which, honestly, will be a relief. Each week that passes gets harder and harder for her eye exams. She screams louder. She fights stronger. And this mama is in the corner of the tiny room trying to block out those harsh screams for help. It's tough. I don't like it. It will be worth it to not have to hear her scream in pain and fear on a weekly basis.

Laser eye surgery isn't typically a big deal for adults, but it is for babies. She'll be completely sedated for the procedure as well as intubated and back on the ventilator. Which breaks my heart to even say. Occasionally I look back at some of Sadie Ann's first videos. In the background is the haunting sounds of beeps and dings that elicit this indescribable, gut-wrenching feeling I hoped to never feel again. While this particular situation is quite different, any trip to the NICU that involves your baby on a breathing machine is frightening.

As with any surgery, there are benefits and risks. In this particular situation, the benefits out weigh the risks. We are praying for a successful surgery without any complications. We are also praying that she recovers quickly, comes off the ventilator quickly, and we are back home in just a few days. The doctor says we could be in the hospital anywhere from two to seven days - depending on how the procedure goes, if we run into any complications, and her recovery.

The thought of stepping foot in the NICU other than to just visit some of our favorite people makes my heart sink to depths I try to forget about. But this has to be done. Time to put on my strong mama hat again, take a deep breath, and start preparing myself to walk back into NICU.

Beach Weekend

Friday morning we packed up and headed three hours south to Destin, Florida. This was our first time getting out of town in almost a year. Yeah, a year! It was much needed to say the least. It was also Sadie Ann's first long car ride, first time in a different state, and first time to the beach. 

We spent the weekend with Chris's parents and grandparents at their family condo. Since there were plenty of hands that wanted to hold, love on, and take care of Sadie Ann, we were able to relax and have some time together. 

We spent Saturday morning and afternoon on the beach - drinking cold drinks and taking in some vitamin sea (and D). Since it was early June, the beaches weren't cluttered and were fairly quiet. It was so relaxing to just stare at the water, listen to music, and not have a care in the world. However, as most parents know, we spent quite a bit of time talking about our Sadie Ann. 

After a few hours on the beach, we headed in for an obligatory post-beach and pre-night out nap. Once the sun began to go down, we took Sadie Ann out to dip her toes in the water for the first time. We all assumed she would not (yet) be a fan of the water and sand, but much to our surprise, she seemed to enjoy sitting in the sand and having the waves run up around her. 

Her great grandaddy decided he wanted to take a dip as well! 

So after introducing Sadie Ann to the ocean, Chris and I headed out for date night. Before getting on the elevator I said, "Let's snap a picture." This was the result. He's pretty notorious for having his eyes closed during pictures, 

We ate dinner at Dewey Destin's and it was delicious. We had the perfect seat on the top deck that overlooked the water. After dinner we walked down the boardwalk. We listened to some live music, did some people watching, and drank frozen beverages. 

It was a quick, but wonderful beach weekend!

Sadie Ann: One Month {Corrected}

Exactly a month ago today, my girls were due. Although Sadie Ann is a few days away from being five months old #ICantEven, today she is one month corrected. I've been able to do the monthly stickers (see my Instagram for those), but I wanted to document additional information, so I decided to make these chalkboard signs. Preemies always have two ages - their actual age and their corrected (or adjusted) age. 

When Sadie Ann was truly one month old, her board would have said something like "I love Ativan and Morphine." Her milestones would have been staying alive and only having a Grade 2 hemorrhage. She's come so far and is truly a miracle. 

At her corrected one month she is almost seven pounds - which seems so big for her, but I know some babies are born at nine (or more!) pounds. As above, she loves being awake early in the morning - my little early bird. She also loves napping on her belly, being held (mommy loves that too), and nursing. She's also recently started sucking on her fist - mostly when she's hungry. It makes me giggle when she can't quite line up her fist to her mouth and she's almost chasing it back and forth. Silly girl. She loves hanging out in her spaceship (also known as a mamaroo) and being worn by mommy in one of her baby wraps. 

She's starting to be very awake and alert between feedings. She's getting better and better with tracking. Occasionally she will move her eyes towards me when I say her name. And she's makes the sweetest cooing sounds when she's falling asleep. She also has a particular sound she makes when she "wants to talk to me". 

I didn't put it above, but there are some things she really doesn't like. That includes diaper changes - the way she screams during a diaper change is really frightening. You'd think someone was really hurting her. It's a little excessive. She's also not crazy about baths yet. Through some of it she screams and other times I think she's really loving it, but doesn't want to let on that she is. 

This little girl is also getting very strong. As mentioned above, on her board, she's sometimes able to roll herself over from her belly to her back. If she doesn't roll over, she eventually does a 180 on her play mat with all that moving around and pushing. It's pretty impressive. 

She's still wearing preemie clothes, but I think by next month's update, she'll be in newborn clothing. It's bittersweet. For so long I prayed for her to grow, get bigger, and get stronger, so it's really a celebration to see her grow out of clothes that once swallowed her whole. On the other hand, I've only ever known her as a teeny, tiny baby and I already miss my little five pound baby that came home. 

Happy One Month, Sadie Ann! 

Sadie Ann's Pink and Gold Nursery

When I was planning Sadie Ann's nursery, I knew I wanted it to be soft and calming - the polar opposite of what the beginning of her life was. I immediately thought of pink and gold; as I continued to plan, I decided I would also incorporate whites, creams, mints, and corals. As far as style, it's eclectic. I blended modern, vintage, rustic, and romantic - it's a lot going on, but I think it works. I absolutely love this room. Chris and I agree it is our favorite room in the house. 

Chris insisted on the five-foot giraffe. We call her Ginger. 

The bunny wall! 90 gold bunnies and two pink bunnies. Chris and I spent an afternoon placing each decal on the wall. It was tedious, but completely worth it. 

Here's some unsolicited advice for those of you who may be in the market for a nursery chair. I highly recommend one that glides, reclines, and swivels. We haven't used the recliner yet, but I have a feeling as she gets older we will. I also recommend some type of ottoman and the high back. I can't image not having somewhere to rest my head when I'm feeding her at three o'clock in the morning. 

This ultrasound picture is so special. It was my second ultrasound and I was seven weeks along at the time. The girls were small enough that they both could be seen together on the screen - and they are in the shape of a heart. It's one of the only pictures I have of both of my girls together in one picture. I plan to have this picture enlarged and transferred onto a canvas to hang in our home. 

This hangs just outside of Sadie Ann's nursery and is a beautiful reminder of her twin sister. 

And, of course, I had to snap a few of my sweet girl.  

Nursery Details:

crib - Jenny Lind

bedding - Pottery Barn Kids

paper tassel garland - Prospect Goods

baby stats pillow - Pillows for Everyone

fearfully & wonderfully wooden sign - Handmade gift

giraffee - Melissa and Doug

dresser - IKEA

glider/recliner - Best Chairs Storytime  via Storkland

sheepskin rug - IKEA

pouf - RH Baby

wooden and gold table - Threshold via Target

bookshelf - IKEA

baskets - IKEA

bunny decals - Ohong's Design Studio

bunny mobile - DIY

mint baskets - Hobby Lobby

"You Are My Sunshine" art - Picturality 

"Hello Sweet, Beautiful Girl" art - Hobby Lobby

abstract framed art - Hobby Lobby

white and mint distressed frames - Hobby Lobby

closet dividers - Gina Marie Originals

gold lamp - Hobby Lobby

personalized hanger - Hitched Hangers 

knit booties - Handmade gift

Mary Elliotts wooden sign - Handmade gift