Temporary housing

I’ve been a mama for a little over 19 months. 

Today I was remembering how I felt physically after giving birth. I’d never felt more •in• my body. Internally, I could feel every last inch, down into my toes. I was alive, and buzzing. I’d never felt that way before, or since. It lasted awhile, and then it was gone. The transformation into a new species was complete. One thing that’s never left me is a new level of comfort in the skin I’m in, and love for it. I still can’t believe I lived so long without the person I love most even in my life. This body was the vessel that brought him to me. It carried his weight, and his bones, and his soul. Being a human is weird, and has never really felt all that natural to me most of the time. Cramming our big souls and starstuff into temporary housing, full of mortal coil. But when I reflect on the day it brought me my Little Prince, I kinda don’t mind it at all.

And I know for certain there is magic at work out there, beyond this plane...

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Mother's Day

It's a Wednesday morning. Middle of the week. I have a minute to myself, and I notice how present I am. Completely dropped in. I think of eighth grade, when I went away to camp for a week for the first (and only) time. I'll never forget how Wednesday felt. I hated the camp, the kids were rude, and I desperately wanted to go home. When Wednesday hit, I had such an overwhelming feeling that I was stuck. Time was at a standstill and I was trapped in the thick of it. This particular day of the week, smack dab in the middle, felt like a non-day. I was no longer at the beginning, but I certainly wasn't at the end. I was present then too, but years later, the difference is that I no longer want out.

I have a one-year old son. One. I have been made mother for over one year. One. With such a big birthday and with Mother's day approaching again I am swirling with feelings trying to make their way out in the form of words. 

I am now a mother, but I am still so many people. They are all very much alive in me. I am that little girl, heartbroken on a Wednesday, on the outside looking in. I am nineteen. I've just moved to New York City where nightlife will explode open, my heart will be crushed, and my teardrops will be left quite literally on the sidewalks. My passions will bloom, my artistry will grow, and I will leave there a real actor. I am a first grader, hurt by getting my one time-out over a complete misunderstanding, and losing my chance at the end-of-year prize from the treasure chest. I am in my early twenties, years into the wrong story. I change my fate. I meet the man who is designed just for me, we have a child. 

Now there is you, my boy.

You were born, and my soul hit the earth with a boom. Mother. Cracked open, everything fell away. Only my purest self remained. I'd had yet to met her.

You have reframed the universe, and restructured time. I have never been so in awe of a person. You, who upon first glance I thought, "who is this?" Looking nothing like I'd thought. Surprising me at every turn. I don't see much of me in you. You are your own little creature. This makes you even more magical. The Little Prince, and I am the curious one, having landed on your planet. 

You. You are everyone who came before and those yet to be. You, who after the most beautiful delivery suddenly got sick. They said to us, "if this happened 100 years ago, he wouldn't be here." But it didn't happen 100 years ago. Time was kind to us, my darling, and let us meet now. We are here, and I still can't grasp it. That you are mine, for keeps. But I've often felt that way about your dad. Six years since we met and I still have to pause and catch my breath. 

There is simply not time for anything that is not urgent. Or important. For time is liquid gold. If it takes me away from you it has to be worth it. There is no other option. 

You remind me that we are all perfect exactly as is from the second we burst into being. More than ever, I laugh at the labels we draw with the earth and with each other. We are all so much more than human and the silly rules we've made. I want such a much bigger, opened-minded earth for you, my boy. 

I saw you years before I knew you. I felt you close by just before you came to us. 

Life exploded into color when you arrived. I will be forever grateful for you, for making me a mother. For leading me my truest self. Little love of my life.

My boy, who shifted all of my selves into perfect harmony. Who taught me to love time, every second of the existence I've chosen (eternel retour) and even to love every Wednesday.


Previous post:  THE BOY 
*this had the most hits of any post yet, thank you for reading and supporting!

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The Birth Story (Part I)

When I look at my son, I see the circle of life. I see humanity. I see mortality. I am all heart. One giant heartbeat. I physically ache with this new love. It consumes me, and it hurts.

I went to bed on the night of March 15, 2015 as I had for months. Convinced I'd be pregnant forever. I was past my due date of March 12, and my induction date was the night of March 19th. I'd grown tired of waiting, I felt good, so I'd just finished making plans to resume life the next day. I was supposed to head into my on camera reporting gig for a couple of shoots, and was even going to attempt to see a play that night. The waiting was killing me, and I needed to keep distracted.

At 2:30 in the morning I woke up with painful contractions. I wasn't sure what was happening at first. Is this what contractions feel like? I gave it some time. I didn't want to wake my husband yet. We'd just been to the hospital two nights ago with a false alarm, and were sent home. I started timing them. 10 minutes apart. Is this how painful contractions really are? I thought I was supposed to start slow and ease in. This felt intense right off the bat. I woke Matt. He held me through each one and tried to keep me calm. It was nearing an hour. It was time to go.

I was checked, told I wasn't dilated enough to be admitted, and to take a walk around the hospital for an hour. We slowly strolled, me in my hospital gown and booties. Recalling what the contractions felt like now, two weeks later, makes me feel sick. They were coming regular, and would reduce me to leaning against the wall, praying for them to pass, at a loss for how to get through them. It would start slow, seize up, and slowly vanish. Over, and over, and over. I was exhausted. How could this be happening but they couldn't admit me? Isn't this what I'm supposed to get the epidural for? I didn't plan to feel any of this. When the hour was up I was checked again. They still wouldn't admit me. They could give me a shot of morphine for the pain and I could go home, or I could walk another hour. Both seemed unbearable, but I had no energy to get dressed, go home, and come back. Another walk it was. By the end it was crippling. I thought I was going to be sick. They were coming at two minutes apart. I cut the walk short by fifteen minutes. I had to lay down. They checked me again, and I was dilated enough to be admitted.

Matt called my parents. This was it. All I could think was, "you just get through this. There is no way out. You just get through."

This is all so hard to put into words. I don't know that I'll ever be able to do my story justice. To really share what I experienced.

I find doctors and hospitals a little traumatizing. I hate IV's, I hated having my cervix checked over and over. I hate the invasion and discomfort of it all. I'd been terrified of the epidural and of childbirth for as long as I can remember. When the anesthesiologist came in for the epidural, my parents were across the room. Matt held my hands and I didn't know how hard I squeezed them until after the fact when he told me I nearly hurt him. I don't know how I'd describe it other than I could feel and hear the tube feeding into my back, it seemed to take longer than I expected and it was, well, gross. However, I'm glad I got it. I knew that for me, I needed to.

I wasn't feeling the effects and I told the nurses I was worried it wasn't working. "Have you tried to move your legs?" One asked. I hadn't, and when I did I was surprised that they were totally falling asleep. A catheter was placed, and pitocin was started.

I felt some painful contractions through the epidural, but not many. My parents and Matts parents were in the room most of the time. I was checked at some point and dilated to a 5. The next time I was checked I was at a 10. Things were happening quickly. Next came "rest and descend", before it was time to push.

I almost forgot to mention that my doctor was off that day! Another doctor in the practice would be delivering my boy. This seems like something that would be a worst fear for a new mom, but it was hardly an issue when it all happened. The doctor who delivered him was great. I had to trust, and I did.

It's a bit of a blur, but the next part happened something like this. A nurse was getting me ready to assume the pushing position, and to everyone's surprise, she could see the top of they baby's head! He was coming fast. I remember them telling the Dr. to hurry, and the Dr. asking if she needed to run. A nurse asked Matt if he wanted to see his baby boy's head of black hair. "What? Black hair?" I asked. I hadn't pictured that. Matt hadn't planned to watch, but he said yes, and actually went to look. I asked for a mirror, and they brought one in for me to see the birth. Matt had a leg, and maybe my hand, and ended up watching the whole thing in the mirror as well. At first I told him not to look, but he said it was okay. I pushed 4 times. He was here in 1minute 36 seconds. The Dr. said I'm in the upper 99 percentile. The nurses said how rare this is for a first time mom. It was incredible to see him come out. I felt no pain. It was magical. Again, I can't explain the feeling, the vibe of the room at that moment. Absolutely sacred.

It was a strange sensation as they pulled him out of me. I felt like there was so much coming out. They said he was a big baby, which was a 180 from all those weeks we worried he was too small. Something happened that last month and he packed it on. Matt cut the cord.

Here he was. Charlie. That's Charlie. Looking nothing like I'd imagined. I was laugh-crying as he was placed on my chest. "He has dimples!" They said. He didn't cry long. I couldn't believe this was who was in me. This was him. It was the most surreal moment of my life. I knew him, but I didn't. But I loved him. Nothing can prepare you for this. Our sacred hour went over. Two hours later we let parents in. "Oh my god, oh my god," my mom said over as she rushed in. He was so beautiful.

It gets vague for me here. I've lived a lifetime since his birth. I never could have imagined how much I'd love birthing him. I never could have imagined all the trauma that was coming next. There is still a big lump of sadness smack in the middle of my chest. I still have to try to separate the birth experience from all that followed, so it's not tainted. I refuse to let the beauty of it be atken away from me. But it runs together, and it's hard. All I could think as it started spiraling downhill next was, "I can never go back to who I was before Charlie, I can never go back to who I was before Charlie," on repeat.

It's true what they say. All of it. How permanently, drastically, and instantly life is changed. A true transformation in the most literal and purest sense. I was reborn, as was my partner, as were my parents.

Before I tackle the next part, which I don't have time to do tonight, I need to make sure you know he is healthy and great after our rough start. He's sleeping peacefully next to me at this very moment.

It's hard to find the time to get this all out, but I'm going to aim to finish the rest of this tomorrow.

Thanks for reading, for the love, and support.


Xo


Charlie's Mom

Progress weeks 37 - 40! ANY DAY NOW!

Our due date has come and gone. Saturday March 12 marked 40 weeks, and no sign of the baby. From the start I haven't been one of those women who had it all riding on that magic date. It's been fun to count down, but I've always known that it's going to happen around that date, give or take. My instincts also turned out to be wrong once again, too. Remember how I was sure he'd come early after my dreams that he did? Ha. Pregnancy has been nothing like I thought, and so full of surprises.

I've talked about how small my bump was through pregnancy, and how it even caused a little concern. I never measured where I should, always weeks behind. An ultrasound at 32 weeks brought peace of mind that he was okay, just a little on the small side. Well, somewhere between weeks 36 - 37 he had a growth spurt, and my week 37 appointment was the first time I measured just where I should! Obviously the health of my baby is always the #1 priority, but it was kinda nice not to have to deal with a large bump up until the final month. This is the month I truly feel pregnant. Strangers can finally ask me when I'm due, confident that yes I am a pregnant woman! I can't believe the changes at the end. I didn't expect him to grow like this after planning for the arrival of our tiny guy, and for my bump to change so much!

I've had a smooth pregnancy, and despite feeling a little uncomfortable at times with this out of proportion tummy,  I basically feel fine. I found that trying to rest in these final weeks doesn't really work for me. There is no such thing as forcing myself to relax, or storing it up for later when it's not needed yet. Staying on the busier side and keeping distracted is much healthier for me. Otherwise I can't stand the wait, and my mind goes a million miles an hour. I still haven't learned the patience I'd hoped to learn.

The blog here continues to be the place where I can let it all out, and leave it. I want to purge it and I want to share my journey, but I don't always feel comfortable with discussing the details across all social media. Mostly because this still continues to feel like the biggest and most personal thing I could ever imagine going through, and I can't stand the (unasked for) opinions. I just want to share. I don't want an opinion, a story, a suggestion, advice, or a comparison. Now there ARE exceptions to this. If I know you really well or if I'm asking you. But generally, if you want to send anything my way, just make it support!

I do have an end date in site, now. I'll go in to be induced the night of March 20th if he hasn't come on his own by then. This was yet another surprise. We've been preparing for a little pisces to come to us, and now we're looking at a very real possibility we're getting an aries (my husband and I are both aries and have jokingly been saying the last thing we need is a third in the house)!

A non stress test this morning showed he is doing great. I'm just so anxious to meet him I can't even stand or explain it. I NEVER thought I'd look forward to birth like this.

So, chances are I'll be pregnant one more week. I'm definitely not going to be a woman who will miss pregnancy. It's too stressful for me to not be able to see him with my own eyes, and touch him with my own hands. I can't wait for the pregnancy journey to be over.

Here are the final images, through week 40! Although I may have that bonus week #41 to post next saturday at the rate things are going. He just likes living in my tummy way too much!


weeks 26-32
weeks 21-25
pre-pregnancy - week 20 



Check out the crazy difference before and after his growth spurt!

And week by week:

The final image is actually 40 weeks and 2 days to be exact, but who's counting?

Thanks for reading, 

Deena Marie 

Progress weeks 33-36! 1 month to go!

1 month to go exactly now.

However, my instinct is that he may be here earlier. I kept dreaming that he came early in the beginning of my pregnancy. I also dreamt that my bump was too small right before the Dr. appointment where I did measure small and we had to check him out on an ultrasound. We'll see! 

Below are the most recent progress pics. Still amazes me how different the bump looks clothed vs unclothed! It also depends on what I'm wearing. I don't always dress to show it off. It depends on my mood, and who I'm going to be around. Sometimes I don't mind showing it off, and other times I feel too vulnerable, and don't want the attention.

I'm at the end and I'm still getting the "I couldn't even tell you were pregnant!" Three times from strangers just this last week when it came up with a cashier and at the hair salon. My limbs have stayed basically the same size, I'm all tummy. I feel like an egg on legs! He dropped Monday, Feb 1st so I'm going along at a slow waddle. It feels like there is a bowling ball on my pelvis. I'm peeing nonstop and it's not the most comfortable I've ever been, but at least I'm no longer unable to breath. I'd been so claustrophobic I was on the verge of panic at times.

I see the light at the end of the tunnel. I'm feeling better (emotionally and mentally) than I've felt all pregnancy, knowing it's the end! I can't wait to write that blog I keep promising on how I learned to truly appreciate my body. 

weeks 26-32

weeks 21 - 25

pre pregnancy - week 20

                                                 I forgot to take week 35 pictures

~DM

The final weeks

I'll be 36 weeks this friday.

I haven't been one of those women who will tell you that they've loved being pregnant. I know there are many who do. It's what I've heard more often than not, and what I expected.

Now that my journey is in it's final stages and I look back on my pregnancy, It's gone pretty darn smooth. The time has flown. And continues to. I never threw up. My weight gain has been minimal. I didn't have crazy cravings. Matt never had to run anywhere to get me something strange to eat at 3 am. My only necessities have been chocolate milk and apples. I was able to exercise regularly. I was able to live my normal life, more or less. The problem is, hindsight is 20/20. Only at the end can I begin to feel appreciative.

I have a hard time when I don't know what to expect. I need to know what is going to happen. I've known for years now that this is my biggest lesson to learn in life. How trust, accept and allow. If this wasn't the ultimate test, I don't know what would be. Never having gone through this, I was stressed at every turn. Wondering if what I was experiencing was normal, and terrified 24/7 that something would go wrong. I was convinced my weight gain would be terrible. I was scared to get our genetic testing results back at the beginning of our pregnancy, sure I was going to get bad news. I was worried about miscarriage. I was worried he'd just stop breathing. Moments of relaxing and enjoying were few and far between.

A few weeks ago we had a scare. For the most part, when people have commented on the size of my bump it's to tell me how surprised they are that I'm so small for how far along I am in my pregnancy. Then the week came where my Dr. decided to order an ultrasound to make sure he was growing as he should, because I was measuring pretty small. She was very reassuring, but it was the first appointment that I didn't walk out the door with all being well. Waiting that week for the ultrasound was so stressful it was making me sick and I ended up losing weight. I can't believe how much I needed him to be okay. In the end he is a bit small, I am a bit small, but we are both measuring fine. We saw him so developed now on the ultrasound. He looked sensitive, and so wise. I couldn't get over it. What a wise sage.

One week ago he dropped. It's such a different feeling. I was so claustrophobic and unable to breathe before he did. Now I feel like there is a bowling ball on the top of my pelvis and I can only walk at a slow waddle. At today's appointment it was reassuring once again to hear all is still well. It's the end. He's practicing his breathing as he should be at this point, getting ready for his first breath. He has quite a bit of hair. He's been moving like crazy lately. He may be small but he is tough.

I'd begun my inner journey of mentally and emotionally preparing for childbirth, and for some reason today left me (finally) in a state of calm. I needed that. At least for today I've let go of fear, of my body betraying me. So far both of our bodies have known just what to do. I can't even begin to describe how much I have learned about appreciating my own body, now at the end of this. That's another post. I'm still wrapping my head around the fact that I've been able to trust this. If only I'd known it sooner.

Preparing for the unknown of childbirth for some reason doesn't stress me. I feel that there is only so much preparation now for something you can't fully imagine until it happens. I feel completely ready, but only as ready as I can be. Ready for the unknown. For once. Maybe because my desire to be so fully present for childbirth overshadows the what-if's. No matter what happens.

Today what I do know, is we are ready to meet. The word meet doesn't ever quite sound right to me, because we already know each other. What I need now is to be able to see and touch him outside of me. It's time for me to hold him. I can't wait to hug him after going through all these lessons together.

I can't quite explain it, the overwhelming feeling that we both need this physical contact with each other now, outside of the womb. And for that, I am a million percent ready.


DM

Maternity Shoot with Pepperfox Photo

I've done two maternity shoots so far. One last week with my husband (blog post with those images coming soon) and one solo shoot today. It was my first time working with Pepperfox Photo. They're Bre and Addison, a husband and wife duo. These two are so talented. Photography, painting, acting, singing, you name it, they do it! I've worked with Addison onstage, but had yet to meet Bre. She was such a blast today. I've enjoyed watching her adventures online as a real life Little Mermaid, playing Ariel at Disney World and on stage locally. She's just as magical in person as I thought she'd be. I couldn't be happier with how the shoot turned out, from the lighting, to the studio, to the gorgeous floral arrangement, to the wardrobe. I highly recommend getting in touch with them!

Photography: Pepperfox Photo 

Floral arrangement: Fox and Fern Floral Co. 

Studio: White Space Studios  

Floral top: Pink Blush Maternity 

Black dress, pink top, black tights: Target 

Floral kimono: Forever 21

January 27th, 2016. 33 weeks.

~DM

What's on the inside

I have sat down to write about my personal pregnancy journey this far (nearing week 34) a few times now, and it never comes out right. While it feels good for me to purge my thoughts, it doesn't end up being something I want to post. I suppose that falls in line with how I've felt all along the way. Tidbits are fun to share, but only to a point. This is such a private, vulnerable, and intimate time. I am reluctant to let the world in. I'm not even sure what I want to say today.

I saw this photo and it touched me deeply. The phrase that sprang into my mind was, "It's what's on the inside that counts." I giggled to myself, but these words have never rang more true to me as they do with pregnancy. This may be repetitive to you if you've been following my blog, but I've had a hard time with everyone commenting on appearance. Mine, and pregnant women in general. It's like it's the only thing anyone can, wants, or knows how to talk about. They compare you to others, or their former pregnant selves, they hijack your stories to talk of their own experience, and they offer unwelcome advice.

It's hard enough to trust your own body, which is now doing something it's never done before, and get comfortable in skin you've never lived in before. With all the information out there, books to read, the focus narrowed to our outward appearance of what our growing bellies look like, all that's sacred about pregnancy is easily lost in the shuffle.

I've had quite an internal struggle with the concept of trust. The further I get and can look back on my pregnancy, I see (knock on wood) it's been fairly smooth sailing. The problem is, I've spent the majority of my pregnancy afraid of what my body will or will not do. It's been a time of great stress for me. It's been eye opening to see that for most of my life I haven't trusted my own body. I've been waiting for it to fail me in some way, and for no reason. It hasn't done so yet.

Why aren't we helping to empower pregnant women instead? Why aren't we simply listening to whatever they choose to share about their experience, or expressing genuine happiness for them and leaving it at that? Why do we instead offer unsolicited advice? Or tell them they look bigger than her, or smaller than her? How is this helpful in any way? Why aren't we connecting deeper as not only women and mothers, but as fathers and humans?

This is the time to reshape the frame we hang any and all ideas of what womanhood and human life mean. 

I am reminded once again that life and birth are part of the same whole. Until you experience it (especially that earth-shattering first), there is no way you can fully relate. With both there is transformation. There is the deepest permanence. An end, and a beginning. A metamorphosis that can only come with life, and with death.

It's a rearranging of identity, and purpose, and intention of how we will now choose to live.

It can be fun to document through imagery a growing belly. For my sake mostly, but also for my family and friends. But that's just the external. Belly size, maternity clothes, and weight gain are the last on the list of what's interesting about pregnancy, not to mention what matters.

It's my journey of pregnancy, yes. But even more, it's his journey. It's his journey into life.

I'm merely a vessel. 

I prefer to concentrate on the depth of what this experience is as the two of us race toward the finish line. Our combined energy is palpable. I prefer to think about how I will explain the world to him when he is here. I'd rather wonder how sensitive, dreamy, and wise my little pieces may or may not be, and how no matter what he is I will never label it. I will never tell him he should be one thing, or should not be another, or should have any other interest or love than whatever he will innately bring into the world. I will teach him from day one that the universe is vast, the possibilities are endless, and the only right way is the right way for him. I'd rather focus on what it may feel like in six-ish weeks from now when my body, heart, and soul crack open in ways I can only begin to fathom. When I get to meet someone I somehow know, but have never seen.

This, this, all of this...

This is for him.



"There is no way out of the experience except through it, because it is not really your experience at all but the baby's. Your body is the child's instrument of birth."
-Penelope Leach 



xo Deena Marie

Bump Progress! Weeks 26 - 32

Here we are! Final trimester. Yesterday marked the start of week 32, which means we're only 8 weeks away from the due date! I have so much to say about my experience up to this point, and will be doing so in a new post soon. For now, here's the latest in my (very unglamorous) weekly pictures.

For weeks 21 - 25, click here.
For pre-pregnany - week 20, click here. 

I wanted to document the difference of the bump covered vs uncovered.
Looks so different! 

I found out my calculations had been off by about a week! 

~ DM

Progress weeks 21-25!

Yesterday marked week 25. It's time for the next set of progress pictures. To see pre-pregnancy through week 20 (and to read about my experience and feelings so far) make sure to start with this post! I'm still feeling good physically, and haven't been slowed down by pregnancy. I'm feeling my Charlie move quite a bit these days. Matt finally got to feel him move, and has now felt him twice! At my last Dr. appointment she told me how active he is as we were listening to the heartbeat. He has been since the first ultrasound in August. He is hyper!

I'm sad to have missed my photo for week 24. We were out of town for Thanksgiving and I forgot. Progress pictures have turned out to be just amazing to me. The changes happen so gradually, and seeing these week to week show me so much more than living in my body day to day, surprisingly. I haven't had to buy any maternity clothes yet, but I'm sure that's coming soon. I haven't worn anything form-fitting yet, because I'm still not sure it looks enough like a bump (rather than a big lunch) to show it off. So people still don't know I'm pregnant if I'm just out and about in a loose top! 

Being used to your body being a certain size through your adult life, it's definitely strange (and at times very hard) to transform. I keep looking back at previous weeks when I thought I was big, and now it makes me laugh at how crazy I was for thinking that! It really took a long time to start showing much of anything. Three weeks until the LAST TRIMESTER. I'm trying to savor every day before I get huge!

It feels more real every day. I can't believe how much love I feel for my baby already. I can't wait to see him with his Dad, too.

It's yet to be determined if social media will ever see our son, so like I said in a previous post, I won't be sharing his ultrasounds. But man, if you could see how beautiful he is already! I can't help but stare at his pictures all the time.

~DM

Baby Bump!

It's finally starting to look a bit more like a baby bump! This wednesday I'll be 25 weeks. It's still small, so trying to accentuate it with my hands in these pictures helped. I ran into an old friend over the weekend and she had no idea I was even pregnant! I assumed she knew, and when I text her after the fact she was shocked. As soon as it gets a little bigger I plan to start dressing to show it off.

Pregnancy is so strange. I can't believe the stages, and how it becomes more real all the time. I feel myself transforming more and more into this new person. While I may not be able to see him yet, Charlie and I already have a relationship and strong connection like nothing I've ever experienced.

My son.
I can't wait to hold him in my arms. 
I can't believe how much I love him already.

Like my heart shaped sunnies? Head to sugarhouse shop Got Beauty for your own!

~DM

And our baby's name is…!

I'm often amazed by the talented and generous people who have come into my life from my endeavors over the years. A year ago I met an incredible artist, Geri Cordova. When she heard I was pregnant she wanted to do something for our baby. We began messaging and I told her all of the things my husband Matt was into, his favorite colors, and what we were naming our son.

Today she sent me pictures of the finished product. I can't tell you how deeply touched I am by her work. These are absolutely magical. And seeing his name like that…speechless.

We've had our names picked out for a couple of years now. Our boy name, and our girl name. It was actually Matt's idea. I'll never forget how I felt when he suggested Charles for a boy.

If you've followed me here, you know how life changing the death of my uncle was in spring of 2012. It was the beginning of an awakening, transformation, and life overhaul for me. Named after Charles Bowden who was known as Chuck, I can't wait to meet our Charles Rex Wride in March, who will be known as Charlie.

Thank you, Geri! Charlie is already SO lucky!

If you're not familiar with her work, she is a full time artist! Her work is on walls of businesses and homes all around town, and her signature painted shoes. Give her a call and get her creativity in your life!

*Charlie's middle name Rex is after Matt's late Grandpa!

~ Deena Marie