6 Months of Ziggy: A 1/2 Year in Review

And you may ask yourself "Well, how did I get here?"

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Tuesday marked 6 months of a one Mr. Willam Ziggy Miller making his entrance into the world, and not to sound like every cliche ever uttered, but I’m having a hard time believing it.

I’ve found myself singing this song on a loop in my head for the last few days:

A short six months ago, we were holed up in a teeny tiny hospital room going on no sleep and trying to figure out how to swaddle this teeny tiny human we had created and I had birthed just hours prior. When we got home, I remember the first few days and weeks being blissful; challenging, yes, but mostly blissful. We were in that oft talked about love bubble that envelopes you right after greeting your baby for the first time. I couldn’t stop crying happy tears and was in awe of the entire process. This thing, this living thing, was in our house to stay. So helpless, so little, barely able to open his eyes. All he did was sleep and eat, and I remember turning to Zac at one point in the very first few days of Ziggy’s life and saying “This is fun!”

One of my fondest memories from that first week was Zac cooking us an incredibly delicious spinach, artichoke, and feta frittata, and feeding me with a fork as I nursed our son. We both wept and kissed frittata-flavored kisses over our little miracle.

And then, shit got real.