My Mother, My Self

My mother and I :) :)

Mom and her lil Breezy 🙂

When my mother was planning her vacation dates, she asked me if I could take off some time too, and spend a few days or a week at home with her. I felt happy that my mom wanted me all to herself:  she wanted us to spend time together over the Summer, before my baby arrives in the Fall. Everyone, myself included, has been so excited for our little girl’s arrival in September, busy with preparations and buying gifts for baby. But my mother continues to just shower me, buying me maternity clothes and great pieces to decorate our new house with. It’s not that she isn’t excited to be a grandma, and I know she will fall in love with this little girl and soon I will come second, but for now, I am still her baby.

My mother and I have always been close. While I had a great group of friends in elementary and in high school, and was always going out on weekends, I stayed home most weeknights to hang with my mom. Nights spent cooking dinner together and watching “90210” or “Melrose Place” was what I loved most. While I have the best group of girls, my mom was, and still is, my best friend. While she never grounded my brother or I as teens, and we were given much more freedom than most our age, the prospect of her being mad at me following a night spent out too late was a big deterrent:  it’s not fun to have your bestie mad at you when you want to hang out. One friend later said she and my other girlfriends wondered how I would ever cope without Bonbon (as most affectionately call my mother Bonnie)!? When I went away to university, only two hours away, we continued to talk daily and I was able to get home once a month.  But this got harder when I graduated from university and chose to take a year of Journalism school on the East Coast. We had to get used to talking only every other day and seeing each other at holidays. I then surprised even myself by signing up to teach English in Japan for not one, but almost two years. This meant we could only speak once a week sometimes (Skype would have made things so much easier!). I went a year without seeing my mom, other family or friends at home, and while it was so hard, I definitely grew as a person and gained independence.

Mom in her early 30's <3

Mom in her early 30’s!

I have always admired my mother for how independent and strong she is, and I wanted to be more like her. The only person I can even compare her to is the title character in the show “Roseanne”:  I grew up watching the sitcom, and saw so many parallels between the lovably tough, funny TV mom and my own mother. Roseanne was the realest mom I had ever seen on television. She loved her kids unconditionally, showed them lots of affection, but she didn’t sugar coat things, and nothing was off limits. I love this approach:  talking openly to your kids about things, and not pretending the world is all unicorns and rainbows, no matter how much I really wish it were!

While my mother and I are both warm and affectionate, like to laugh and are not afraid to speak our minds, there are big differences in our personalities which made for some major conflicts growing up. I am bubbly and overly talkative (kindly called “motormouth” by my family), and was a major people pleaser (I see that changing as I have gotten older; caring less about others’ opinions of me, which is freeing and something I definitely learned from my mom!). Bonnie is honest to a fault, sarcastic and has a great dry sense of humour (perfectly suited to loving British comedy, something she did long before I fell for a Brit!).  She didn’t go to university, but Bonnie has a quick wit and street smarts. I excelled at school, but I definitely have my blond moments. She has a thick skin, while I am overly sensitive. We may both be softies and cry easily when watching sad movies (even a heartwarming commercial can send us to tears!), but she is able to control her emotions much better than me. She is a happy person, but doesn’t get overly excited or down in the dumps, while I am one moody chick who “feels things strongly”, as she explained to Jon when we were first dating (thanks Mom!!). Being an independent woman, and not needing to be in a relationship to be happy was important for me, but it is Bonnie who exemplifies this. She has always told me I didn’t need to get married or even had kids if I didn’t want to, but I am a hopeless romantic and fell for all that romantic comedies were selling. She doesn’t like that movie genre and even hates when a love interest pops up to wreck an otherwise good action flick.

So when I when I chose to quit my dream job, and move away from family and friends, to be with Jon, I was initially worried about how my mom would react. I was worried about leaving her, but I was also worried that she wouldn’t get why I was doing it. I had been vocal about finding a fulfilling career, and after years of not truly loving what I did, I had finally found my dream job. I was also in the process of realizing another dream by starting my Master’s degree. But I made the decision to move, to do it for the love of an amazing man, but also for the prospect of a future family, because while career and grad school were important, more than anything I dreamed of someday becoming a mother. I thought my own mother wouldn’t understand this, choosing love, in its various forms, over career and the security of living life in your hometown amongst family and friends. But without much explanation on my part, she completely got it. She may not be a sappy romantic like me, but she knows what it means to be a mother.

Me and my Bonbon <3 <3

Me and my Bonbon ❤ ❤

When I went home, I got to talk with two close friends whose own mothers are ill. Hearing what their mothers are going through, and what they themselves are struggling with, made me even more appreciative of my own mother and our relationship. One friend said she would take back all the things she got annoyed at in her mother (we all have those, the things our parents do that just bug us!), if it meant she would have her back just the way she was. No matter how much I may cringe at it, I cannot imagine never hearing my mom say “Oh Bree” again, when I have done something silly. I cannot fathom not hearing her sarcastic tone as she picks at some star on TV. And I would even miss her many impressions (her doing Justin Timberlake’s “Sexy Back” takes the cake!). Most of all I cannot imagine not being able to hug her, and tell her I love her. After I spoke with this friend, I immediately went home and hugged my mom, crying into her arms, telling her I never wanted to lose her. Ever the realist, Bonnie said that someday I would have to live without her, but that we had time together now, and that she would always be with me, just as her mother is always with her.

I have been given an amazing mother to model myself after:  I can become the things I admire most in her, while still being Bree. We are different people, and yet at the core, we are the same. And I have the chance to pass on to my own daughter all the things my mother taught me:  that it is important to be kind, and to treat others well; that it isn’t about winning, but having fun; that a good hug makes everything better and laughter is the best medicine; and, that life can be shitty, but you need to learn to soldier through and if nothing else, not take yourself too seriously. She has taught me that a woman can be both strong and sweet; that being smart is more important than being pretty; that beauty is more than skin deep, and it comes in all shapes and sizes. Most of all, she has instilled in me the belief that you don’t need to define your happiness by society’s or anyone’s standards, because you get to decide how to live your life and be happy on your own terms. Bonnie has said many times that all she ever wanted was for her children to be happy. Well Bonbon, mission accomplished:  you have a very happy daughter who couldn’t be more excited to become a mom herself, all because you showed her how to love like only a mother can.

Home Is Where the Heart Is

In preparation of having a child, they say expectant couples need to nest. When we first found out we were expecting, not only was I shocked by how quickly it happened (oh and the terrifying prospect of actually delivering the baby!), but I was also worried that we had no nest built for baby bird.

We were living with Jon’s parents, and while it was great to have their support and be able to save for a house, we wanted our own place to bring up baby. I had visions of decorating our little one’s nursery (a theme around owls, bright green and dark wood baby furniture has since evolved to the very Spring combination of mint and peach, with clean white crib and change table…owls still welcome of course!). I wanted to make the kitchen my own:  bake my beloved cupcakes and cook meals to freeze in preparation of the first few weeks post-baby. I also wanted to enjoy the summer by planting a garden before my belly got too big to do so, and for Jon to enjoy having his very own yard:  a place for him to BBQ and eat meals outside. And I couldn’t forget about our fur baby:   Akira needed a place to call his own inside, and to be free to run around outside, climbing trees and making friends with other felines. But more than anything, I wanted Jon and I to settle into our home before baby arrived:  to make the most of our time just us two, by watching movies and cooking together. But we hadn’t really even began looking for a place of our own.

The day we became homeowners:):)

The day we became homeowners:):)

Well just as quickly as we got pregnant, we bought a house. It seemed an emotional, stressful ordeal for me, but I think that was just the pregnancy hormones speaking. Any sane person would say it was a pretty painless process, when compared to house-buying horror stories I’ve heard. It is just perfect for us:  modern updates with old character, shiny new appliances, and a big yard. Two signs it was for us: there was still a crib and toys in the second bedroom, and they happened to have our same big red and black dishes that didn’t fit in my old kitchen, sitting comfortably in the cupboard. Kismet.

Our home!!

Our home!!

I have never owned my own home, and neither has Jon, so in terms of major life experiences, this came second only to finding out we were going to be parents. We couldn’t stop smiling at each other; for days we looked around at our cozy little house, goofy grins on our faces, so pleased that it was all ours. Jon was already out in the yard the weekend we moved in, so excited by all the space; a deck to BBQ and sit and have beers on, and a garage to furnish with tools (and a beer fridge he hopes!). While he dreams of a man cave basement one day, just as I dream of a jet tub and a walk-in closet, our house is great as it is, and just what we needed. I was loving the size of the cupboards in the kitchen, organizing places for appliances and food, magically fitting in all my cupcake gadgets and decorations. And I loved looking around at how we could decorate the TV room and dining room:  pictures to frame and hang, walls to brighten with art. I can’t wait to someday get a beautiful dining room table like my mother had, have dinner parties and entertain. And the bedroom I have started to make warm and romantic with pops of red.

Then we had a hiccup in our home-owning bliss:  Jon discovered water leaking from the washing machine downstairs and found that something was clogging the drain. Then everything flushed or emptied down the drains upstairs came flooding up in a gross mess in the basement. It was stressful, living in our house for four days like we were in fact camping (try telling a pregnant girl she can’t have a bath or not to use the bathroom quite so often!). Ever the worrier, I immediately started to stress about how much it would cost to get a plumber out. I felt I couldn’t look downstairs at the mess for fear it would drive me to tears. As always, Jon was calmer under pressure, telling me not to worry, working tirelessly to try and fix the problem himself. On Saturday, I started planting flowers to make our yard pretty, and sat reading outside on our deck. Meanwhile, my poor British beau was stuck dealing with crap, literally; crouched over a drain in the basement, he was hoping to save us some money and any more inconvenience. I am beyond lucky to have a man who not only does more around the house than me, (of course he is thankful for the fact that I cook almost all our meals) but also works hard to make sure our home is comfortable, and leak-free. His connections at work may have also got us a plumber in record time, following the long weekend, and they fixed the problem in no time. While discovering a flaw in our beloved new home only a month into moving in it wasn’t ideal, it is one of the drawbacks to owning, and something I knew we would encounter at some point. I just didn’t think it would be quite so soon. It did show me again that in stressful circumstances, Jon is my perfect match:  the calm to my little bit of crazy.

So the joys of owning a home haven’t been overshadowed by this icky experience. Friends and family have showered us with housewarming gifts, cards and well wishes, helping us celebrate the excitement of owning our first home. I am so thankful for their love and support, as they all know how special it is to make a house a home.


Two prints from Autumn Grey Designs to decorate our home ❤

Even before we moved in, I began ordering prints to frame for our home, and then custom ones to make it even more special.  My love of prints has come dangerously close to an obsession, but I blame it all on bestie Jen ha ha;) I am in fact very thankful to her for introducing me (and countless other girlfriends) to Autumn Grey Designs and Pixel Paper Hearts. You can find them on Instagram, and online at:

Both of these very talented women create beautiful, inspiring prints, cards and invites, and both are so sweet to correspond with. I framed two custom prints in our kitchen that just scream Bree:  “You are the cheese to my macaroni” and “You are the icing on my cupcake”, and an extra print from Learzi at Autumn Grey:  “You are the bread to my butter”…placed near the toaster! I can’t wait to start decorating our baby room with two prints in peach and pink from Pixel Paper Hearts:  the alphabet and “Come live in my heart and pay no rent.” Our baby girl will hopefully appreciate these prints…once she can read of course;)

So while we still have the baby room to tackle, and projects around the house to complete to make it all that we want, it’s the journey that I am again learning to enjoy. The work we do together to make our house the home we want is part of the fun:  from hanging pictures of our loved ones to shopping for new items to decorate it. I love cooking in our kitchen and snuggling on the sectional, watching a movie…with Aki cat…and our daughter snug in my belly, who will call this house her first home.


Just one of the prints we picked to make our house our home...right outside the baby room;) Courtesy of Autumn Grey Designs!

“Silence is suspicious (when you become a parent)”…placed right outside our baby room;) Courtesy of Autumn Grey Designs!



Spilling the Baby Beans!

In just over two weeks we will be able to share some more news:  whether this little babes in my belly is a he or a she. It makes me think back to how we shared the news of being pregnant in the first place. As with most things I do, I wanted to plan in my head how things would go:  how I would share the news, and how my family and friends would react. But things happened so quickly that I barely had time to process it myself, and you can’t control other people’s reactions anyway.  This is just one of the many things I have had to learn to let go control of:  planning how things will go. I have a feeling this is just the beginning of learning to let go of control.

The night we found out, we told our parents and siblings and for this, I had no time to plan out my words or what reaction they would illicit. Jon’s father was in kitchen, and we were in the bathroom off the TV room. It would have seemed strange not to immediately explain why his son and live-in girlfriend were holed up together in the bathroom, or why I was crying and he was holding me as we walked out together. Not to mention that we wanted to share the news; while unexpected, we were none the less excited. Jon’s dad was elated, and hugged me so many times. Jon’s brother was excited as well, as we told him he was becoming an uncle for the second time in a very short period. Before anyone texted Jon’s mum, we called her to share the news. She was in Regina at the time, staying with his sister and her newborn baby. Having just become a grandmother for the first time only weeks earlier, she couldn’t have been more excited by our news. And his sister was so happy for us, as was her husband. The idea of our babies being so close in age was an exciting new development for the whole family. When I told my own big brother that night, he was shocked for sure, but also excited at the prospect of finally becoming a real uncle, not just one to his best friends’ and our cousins’ offspring. He can’t wait to buy baby gear of his favourite football teams; boy or girl, this kid is going to go to games with uncle Brett.

I was both excited and nervous to call my mother. While she is the most amazing mother in the world to my brother and I, she is unlike many women her age who have been excitedly anticipating the moment they become grandmothers. Some women get hounded by their mothers, asking them when they will get on the baby train, already? Not Bonnie. There has been no pressure from her to get married or have kids. Instead, she told me that it was ok to just live with a guy, and that not everyone needs to have children. It’s not that my mother is against marriage or kids, she just wanted me to make the choice for myself, and make it when I felt really ready to take it all on. Well now I was older, and I was with the man of my dreams. But I had also made enough big changes in a short period of time that I knew instinctively she would be shocked, atleast initially, by the most major life development thus far. Not that these things ever really make for perfect timing:  so many wise friends have said there is no perfect time to have a baby. But I had just made the move from my hometown to live with Jon, we had been together not even a year at this point, and we were living with his parents while we saved for a down-payment on a house of our own. I knew her reaction would be a mix of excitement for Jon and I , and concern for her baby girl.

I can begin to understand this extreme concern a parent has for their child, but I know I will not fully comprehend it until the day my own child ventures off to do something both exciting, and terrifying. From candid talks with my mother, other family and countless friends who have gone before me, having a child is the most amazing thing, but it is in no way an easy experience. I can tell that, like any parent, my mom wants my life to be easier, to be free from stress or strain. But I also know she is tremendously excited for me to embark on this new adventure:  she quickly texted a message following my phone call to be sure we knew she was really happy about the news, in the following weeks she repeatedly asked when she could reveal the news to her friends at work, and now she is busy organizing my family baby shower. Recently we got a major stamp of approval when she told Jon that she really believes we are both ready to be parents! So it just took a bit for her to process the news…then even she went into Grandma-to-be-Mode.

When I told my dad, he had a similar reaction to my mother’s:  he was at first shocked, and while I knew he was happy, he was also worried. He was concerned about what I would tell my employer, as I had only started my new position a month before. Leave it to my dad to be practical at a time like that! In reading pregnancy books since then, and experiences of women telling their fathers their news, I realized I am not the only one to be surprised by my father’s reaction. To him, I will forever by his little girl, and he wants to shield me from the hardships of life.  I think he, like my mother, wanted me settled in a house, and at a job for a reasonable length of time, before becoming a parent. But like my mother, he soon processed the news, and came home from his yearly trip to Barbados with a tiny tie-dyed baby shirt that made me tear up. Oh and also a very large pink nightshirt for me to wear to accomodate my now growing belly, which made me giggle through the tears.

The prospect of telling my new boss was scary. I didn’t think she could really be mad, but I knew that it was less than ideal to tell your new employer that you will be leaving in less than nine months for a year maternity leave. So while this stressed me, leaving it caused me even more stress. Oh and I couldn’t stop running to the bathroom, which was located past her office. So I ripped it off like a band aid. And you know what, it didn’t hurt so much. She was so supportive, just as the rest of my coworkers have been since I shared the news. You can’t get more supportive than a group of women who have almost all been through it at least once. Even my one coworker who has never been pregnant herself shouted “We are having a baby!” when I told her!

Telling friends and other family was less nerve-racking:  I had had time to process the news for myself then decide on fun ways to share it with my loved ones. I called and told my aunts Sharon and Heather (both more like second moms to me!) that they were going to be great-aunts soon. They were excited and have since been asking me what I need, and what they can buy? I have always likened them, joined by my mother, to the three fairy godmothers in Sleeping Beauty, dutifully watching over the princess (once upon a time, that little princess was me…now my own prince or princess would be given their love and protection). For my cousins Tarren and Dakota, who are more like sisters and best friends than cousins, I sent a picture text of the British and Canadian flags, with the positive pregnancy test between them, to announce the news. I got to see Tarren in person immediately after this, and we cried together as we hugged, then called her mom Michelle (another second mom to me!) to tell her the news. When I got to see them all together in person a few weeks later, my aunt and cousins had decorated sugar cookies with our chosen baby names in blue and pink, complete with a fuzzy lil lamb stuffed animal to round out the most thoughtful, and yummy, gift.

I sent my Hagan cousins a group Facebook message, which illicited very excited replies, and when I told my other cousin Brea-Anne, she screamed over the phone at the news (such the reaction I was hoping for, thanks Breezy!).  I called my best friend Haley and started by saying I knew it was shocking as I had only just told her we may start trying, but she wasn’t surprised-good friends have faith in you to achieve what you want most, even when you doubt yourself! When I came home recently, she had the most thoughtful present for me to use in decorating the baby room:) I sent other besties Jen and Rachelle text pictures of Jon and I excitedly holding the pregnancy test, and both had sweet gifts for me to pick up when I came home for me and babes, but it is their support and advice in response to my neverending questions during pregnancy that has meant the most! When I met more girlfriends for lunch, I couldn’t keep the news under wraps (Kim, my tech-savvy friend found out before I had a chance to spill the news:  while helping me update my phone, she spotted the revealing pregnancy apps, ha ha!). Cathy and Janine, both of whom were very pregnant at the time and looking gorgeous (if I can look half as good as them at that point I will be a happy woman!) were ecstatic and it was great having other preggos present to ask my early preganancy questions to. I even shared the news to my girl Crystal, on of all days, love day Valentine’s<3 I quickly shared with the rest of my ladies who I hadn’t yet had a chance to tell; I couldn’t wait to poll my Splurge group in particular (the most amazing group of women I know!) with questions about diaper bags and bottles brands! I have a feeling they are going to be getting alot of questions from this new mom!!! The love and support of all my family and friends, whether or not they have been through this already or not, is invaluable, as is all the useful baby gear already given to us (having a baby years after friends and family are finished has its bonuses)!

We thought for awhile about how to make our announcement via social media (yup, we are just that cheesy…ok, I am that cheesy; Jon is just along for the ride and so sweet in his support of my oversharing!). There are so many ways to announce it, some sweet and others hilarious, everthing from pictures of sweet little shoes to a jar of Preggo sauce, ha ha! We chose a sweet treat to do the job:  Union Jack and Maple Leaf-decorated cupcakes with a mini one in yellow:) The support and love we felt in response was palpable:  people get pregnant and have babies everyday, and we are following in the footsteps of so many family members and friends, but to us, this experience is second to none!

So, while you definitely can’t always control how and when you spill the beans, you can find unconditional love and support in the varied responses. As the old saying goes, it is the journey, not the destination! At almost 18 weeks, I am learning to not just get through being pregnant and anxiously anticipate the end result, but to enjoy every minute of the wild ride; the crazy journey to meeting our little boy or girl<3

Two little lines…

Two little lines. Or it could be a plus sign. In my situation it was the appearance of two little blue lines that changed everything; nothing will ever be the same, and yet I wouldn’t have it any other way!

Two little lines

Two little lines proves it!

The appearance of two lines means you are pregnant, one line:  no go. Seeing the two little lines would have once terrified me:  in my twenties, or before I felt remotely ready (I am not sure anyone is ever really ready are they?), or before I found the right person. Over a year ago those two lines would have been part of a bad dream for me. And yet ever since I met Jon I could see those two little lines as part of a dream for us. We talked early on about how much we both wanted kids, and we consciously decided to try early, just in case like some, it took awhile. Well we didn’t need to worry about that happening! It took my mother all of three months to get pregnant after going off the pill, and my grandmother had nine children, so I am not quite sure where I got the idea that I wasn’t fertile. But when you want something so bad, you scare yourself into thinking it can’t possibly come true. At least that’s how my overly neurotic mind works.

So I had prepared myself for months of trying, for the initial disappointment that it wasn’t happening quickly, before trying to see the silver lining that not being pregnant right away meant I could still enjoy red wine while eating Brie cheese, and get sushi and drink beer. I could even try harder to lose weight (the wine, cheese, sushi and beer usually counteracted my feeble attempts to lose weight). I imagined the heartache of waiting more than awhile to get pregnant, and the enjoyment of that silver lining dwindling every month that passed by without a positive pregnancy test. I have heard friends stress about when they would get pregnant, wonder why their attempts weren’t working. I have read multiple pregnancy blogs since I got pregnant describing the disappointment of trying and waiting to conceive. But Jon and I were spared all this, as we got pregnant all of a second after taking the goalie out (or for Jon, the keeper).

I know how very lucky we are. But in the same way, it made for quite the surprise. I had prepared myself for not getting pregnant right away, but I had not readied myself for such a quick positive result. I had a few glasses of wine with my girlfriends when we went home to visit that weekend. The next morning my mom looked at me making sick faces at my bacon and eggs and asked: “Did you get your period?” I laughed and said it was coming right away (I honestly just thought I had a hangover from two glasses of wine). When my mom said this, I didn’t look over to catch the look on Jon’s face (he wouldn’t have been shocked by my mom’s comment; he knows there is nothing off limits with us two), but I wasn’t worried yet. When I had to ask him to pull over on the side of the road on our way back to Estevan that afternoon, I started telling myself that I couldn’t be feeling pregnancy sickness this quick, it takes time before you feel nauseous and dizzy doesn’t it!? The next day when my period was still M.I.A., I felt like I had the flu, but my boobs felt unimaginably sore (even more sore than the monthly sore-as-rocks feeling), I had to accept that I was most likely pregnant. When Jon and I drove to get tests from the pharmacy, we had reached silent agreement that we were expecting.

But still, seeing those two little lines was the confirmation we needed. I took two tests. So we saw four little blue lines in all. At the sight of them, holding them out so Jon could see, I balled (not a surprise) but couldn’t utter a word (that is surprising, something making me speechless!).

Now I am thirteen weeks, and it definitely feels real. The sore boobs have subsided slightly, the nausea got better, then worse, then better, and I feel almost like my normal self again. I had hoped to feel amazing the second I passed 12 weeks, as some women say they felt great in their second trimester. But I am still so tired. I have always been on the lazy side but this ridiculous:  just getting through a day of work is all I can do. I wish I could go to sleep every night at 8 p.m. and sleep blissfully through until 7 a.m. It’s the constant peeing that really gets me (yes it has subsided but I know it returns in the third trimester!). Again, I always peed a lot, so it shouldn’t have shocked me so much. But when you can’t go to sleep at 8 p.m. like you’d like to because you have to make 5-10 trips to the bathroom in the span of two hours, you end up shouting: “Screw this pregnancy business,” at your boyfriend, with his perfectly functioning bladder. He is spared the first-hand knowledge of what a pain in the ass pregnancy can be, but he knows from my whining and crying and loud ugly dry heaving that it is not all it’s cracked up to be. He keeps saying sympathetically that this little pea, or raspberry, or kumquat (whatever fruit its size is equated to depending on the week) has a lot of explaining to do once he or she arrives.

Then we went for our first ultrasound. While we already knew the sickness and fatigue was worth it, as long as our baby was healthy, the images of a tiny person (albeit alien-like) floating peacefully inside me was visual confirmation of this sentiment. At 12 weeks, little lime couldn’t be blamed for the mornings I cried to Jon that I couldn’t possibly go to work feeling so sick, or for the time I puked in the parking lot outside the hockey rink on an attempted “date night,” or for the new roundness my belly had suddenly taken on (although I would have to to thank babes at some point for giving me an excuse to ditch Spanx for six months!). At times I felt I had become a selfish, sniveling shadow of my former self, seemingly fixated only on how horrible I felt. And I had drove Jon crazy worrying that the baby wasn’t ok, even when the sickness should have given me reassurance. But for little lime, as well as my myself, all was forgiven. Nothing mattered but the image of our baby, and the look in Jon’s eyes as he watched in amazement. I write this with tears in my eyes because it is the most satisfying sight of my life thus far:  seeing that something Jon and I created together is living and breathing, safe and sound in my belly.

The first official pic of baby Corr

Love at first sight!