The moment I met Emma: my favorite photo ever.

Hi, everyone! It’s been a while, huh? Today is the first day I’m sitting down to the computer for a couple of hours since Emma’s arrival on August 3rd. :) Before I start, though, a huge thank you goes out to Mitch for maintaining the blog and managing my email and social accounts for the last couple of weeks. As Emma was six days late, we had a lot of time to write and schedule content, and Mitch was SUCH a help. He even wrote some blog posts! (You can read them here, here and here.) Thank you, Love!

Over the next few days, I’m going to be sharing so much about our first two weeks with Little Emma. But today, I want to tell the story of the beginning. Because next to the day I married Mitch, August 3rd was undoubtedly the most special day of my entire life.

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I know I talked about this on the blog in July, but I was kind of an emotional mess during my third trimester. And part of my distress definitely came from anxiety over childbirth. There were a few things that contributed to my fears: seeing dramatizations of traumatic births on televison and movies as a child; allowing my imagination to run wild; and hearing way too many horror stories from friends, acquaintances and complete strangers. Today, though, I’m here to share an extremely positive experience, and hopefully alleviate others’ fears of childbirth as a result. Because I have to say: Emma’s delivery was incredible, and not at all traumatic. And from what my doctors and nurses told me, it was a very run-of-the-mill delivery, too!