I knew I loved Maisy even before a pee stick told me I was pregnant. I distinctly remember praying for her on a run one day, a week before even taking the test was a possibility, and I prayed that she
would love Jesus to her very core, be so full of joy, and come out perfectly healthy.
The moment I touched her I knew I loved her. This love was more a provident love. I knew all I wanted to do was provide for her and care for her better than anyone else in the world has ever cared for anyone.
But it wasn’t until the day after the hardship of trying to care for a newborn while photographing Sarah + Travis‘ wedding and the full day of mothering maddness that followed that my head love for Maisy found my heart. The thing is, I knew I loved Maisy but I didn’t feel it for a little while. Perhaps part of this is due to the zombie-like nature I found myself in for the first week and a half of new motherhood, but perhaps it is the hardship that finally connected my head with my heart. I have found it is only really “doing life” with someone that seals a friendship. Maisy is and was an easy baby. Motherhood and Maisy made sense to me and I was stress free… until Maisy’s 9th day. On Maisy’s 9th day I photographed a wedding. The wedding went well and Maisy was a champ, but the next day all hell broke loose. Maisy seemed desperate to eat all day long despite the fact that overeating only ended in projective vomit (see”Upchuck and Church“). It was an exhausting day and by the end of it I cried. The next day I woke up to the same baby but with a new dose of help: the moment my sleepy eyes met my newborn’s face my heart filled with this most bubbly, lovely goodness. That was the moment I truly fell in love with my daughter. A couple days later she knowingly smiled at me and we’ve been best friends ever since.