My baby is about to be ONE and her story is ONE of a kind.
She’s simply and truly as sweet, calm, quiet, gentle, and peaceful as they come. She said the word, “ya” before “no” and I think that speaks volumes about her. She is down for absolutely anything, anytime. She doesn’t have to be the center of attention, she honestly doesn’t even seek any attention, but she always appreciates being at the party. She’s the definition of little sister and the definition of having our whole heart and admiration. There are no words for how much we absolutely adore her. There truly is no one else in the whole wide world that is a more perfect addition for our family. And I thank God everyday for her. And I know Bridget and Drew do too.
“Cara, my beautiful baby girl, you knew you would move mountains one day and you accepted joining our world during a time you knew you could conquer. Thanks for having that faith in me too. We did it together. It was a token of our strength and we rose to the life milestone together.”
Cara Girl, your story is one for the ages, that I thankfully have a lifetime to share with you. Even though a lifetime is too few, for me to express my love for you.
Oh, my sweet God-given gift, my darling daughter, Cara Madeline. You are a birth of bright light, love and hope sent straight from heaven. You are the purest reminder of all things good in the truest form. The world (and I) always need people like you, but we all really needed you in your perfect timing in which you came. You truly and sincerely are such a beautiful blessing.
On March 22, 2020 at 2:46am, our hearts were Cara-d away and they haven’t been the same since.
“My baby is about to be ONE and her story is ONE of a kind.”
BIRTH IS BEAUTIFUL
How lucky am I to be able to meet the only two people who know what my heartbeat sounds like from the inside. And once they join me on the outside, they know exactly what my heart needs.
It’s a true miracle. All of it. Pregnancy, birth, instantly gaining mom strength, growing a mother’s heart in one swift beat, knowing just what to do for your child, and being just who your baby needs to survive in this great big world. You. Solely you. You’re all they need. Your love, your nourishment, your time, your compassion, your gentleness, your kind spirit, and your patience. I know with the upmost certainty, that your child is your child for a reason. You were called to be your baby’s mother. You are exactly what they need. And I know with true confidence, they are exactly what we need. They are ours and we are theirs. And it is nothing short of the sweetest, most special gift. The gift of being given your child. The gift of motherhood. The gift of witnessing someone’s very first breath. The gift of the purest, most innocent love. There is no describing how I feel when I give birth. But I will tell you, just like George Strait says, “I saw God today.”
Birth is so beautiful. I’m my strongest selfless self while giving birth. I’m harnessing my calling while giving birth. I’m going to be one of those people who is going to miss giving birth. (Do those people even exist? I think so – because I feel that way, so there has to be other out there, right? And if they don’t, then please let this comfort you knowing how beautiful birth can be. Let that calm you and excite you for your experience.)
Oh ya, and you know how they say the second time around it all happens so much quicker overall and that you barely push? I’m here to say, it is all the truest of true.
“Birth is so beautiful. I’m my strongest selfless self while giving birth. I’m harnessing my calling while giving birth.”
“On March 22, 2020 at 2:46am, our hearts were Cara-d away and they haven’t been the same since.”
CARA MADELINE BUTLER
I think when you have your second child, you want your children’s names to flow beautifully together. At least I did. And I don’t think there’s a better name to compliment our beautifully unique Bridget, than Cara. The name Cara was on our final list when we were naming Bridget. So we always thoroughly and sincerely have loved it. Cara is of Irish origin, which is where Drew’s heritage is traced back to, and it literally means “beloved best friend” in Irish. Sisters make the best of friends. And Cara is in every sense of the definition, literally, Bridget’s best friend. As if it doesn’t get better than your name meaning beloved best friend, it also means love. If you know me (and even if you don’t) I think you will see and say you know how much love means to me. I surround myself with hearts. I surround myself with family. I surround myself with love. And now, I surround myself with Cara. When you research the Italian meaning of Cara, you find its term of enjoyed endearment. It is simple and sweet. It is associated with “dear face.” And if you have seen any sort of depiction of my darling daughter, her face is full of the first features you will not be able to take your eyes off. Her big brown bright eyes are what songs are written about. Her cheeks are the most plump, soft cheekies you just want to eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And a precious dimple chin to finish it off for dessert. Her name couldn’t fit her more perfectly physically or spiritually.
Now let’s discuss Madeline. I’ve always liked the cute name Maddie, and Drew’s great-grandmother’s name was Mattie. And while I didn’t have the distinct honor of knowing her, I do have the very high pleasure of knowing her daughter, Drew’s grandmother. Drew’s grandmother is the definition of sweet sophisticated grace. And to the mom who raised her, I commend you. So here is to you, Miss Mattie. Our daughter is a nod to you.
Now to the logistics of the name, we pronounce it Madelyn, but love the traditionally timeless precious spelling Madeline way more. If you can’t tell yet, Drew and I will pick classy traditional over today’s trends any day of the week. We both felt that the longer beautiful name Madeline over Maddie went perfectly with short and sweet Cara. They balance one another beautifully and peacefully. And we pronounce Cara, the “care” way 🙂 I promise to always take care of her, but meanwhile, I know she’s the one taking care of us too.
“I know with the upmost certainty, that your child is your child for a reason. You were called to be your baby’s mother. You are exactly what they need. And I know with true confidence, they are exactly what we need. They are ours and we are theirs. And it is nothing short of the sweetest, most special gift. The gift of being given your child. The gift of motherhood. The gift of witnessing someone’s very first breath. The gift of the purest, most innocent love.”
“Everyone thought the world was ending, when ours was beginning. While everyone was turning inward focusing on their own fears, closing off, we were opening our hearts and home.”
LET’S GET THESE THOUGHTS OUT OF THE WAY
I gave birth to Cara days after a worldwide pandemic was declared. Drew and I brought Cara home from the hospital the day Georgia went on lockdown.
Doctors didn’t know anything. Pediatricians didn’t know anything. No one knew anything. And while there are still some unknowns a year later, think for a moment how wildly far we have come with knowledge. There was no social distancing, solely separation. There was no advice you wanted to truly heed, but did. While everyone was turning inward focusing on their own fears, closing off, we were opening our hearts and home to our newest family member. I was forced to go home and not have a single person from my support system around – to juggle everything newborn, still show my oldest the same amount of love and attention, to heal my body from giving birth – oh, and do a freaking phenomenal job at all of those three things ++ worry about the world. Everyone thought the world was ending, when ours was beginning.
“I helped pave the way. Now moms are mentally prepared for what’s allowed and what is not. I was not. No one was. But Cara was. She never batted an eyelash with her timing. And she chose me to do this with her.”
I also want to make it clear, we didn’t get to come home to our family greeting us either like could be possible now. There weren’t COVID tests yet. There wasn’t quarantining information to where doctors knew it would be safe if family did xyz in advance. There were no vaccinations. This was the VERY beginning. No one met her. I even sent my mom home once we got home from the hospital and were back with Bridget. I didn’t see her for months after. Hard is an understatement. But I had the strength. So did Cara. So did Bridget. And so did Drew.
Cara, my beautiful baby girl, you knew you would move mountains one day and you accepted joining our world during a time you knew you could conquer. Thanks for having that faith in me too. We did it together. It was a token of our strength and we rose to the life milestone together.
“How lucky am I to be able to meet the only two people who know what my heartbeat sounds like from the inside. And once they join me on the outside, they know exactly what my heart needs.”
While giving birth without family in the hospital is normal now, I was the first. While going to OB appointments without your significant other is normal now, I was the first. While all of this is normal now, it was unimaginable at the time. It was all evolving, unfolding, and changing daily then, and I didn’t know what the next day would hold. While these days all moms are now doing this, and have been for the past year, I hope you can understand when I talk about these things, it was really rough at the time. The unknown. The shock. I helped pave the way. Now moms are mentally prepared for what’s allowed and what is not. I was not. No one was. But Cara was. She never batted an eyelash with her timing. And she chose me to do this with her.
I’ve thought long and hard about this birth story of ours, and I am choosing not to write this with the details of giving birth during the time period in which we did. Not because it doesn’t weigh heavy on my heart. Not because it wasn’t a huge aspect. Not because it hasn’t affected my little family more than I could have ever imagined. But because this is the sacred story of me meeting my daughter. This isn’t the story of my own mom not even holding my daughter until she was 3-months-old, outside and with a mask on per pediatrician conversations. This isn’t the story of all of our hopes, wishes and plans being turned upside down. This isn’t the story of me having my oldest daughter’s outfit marked “going to the hospital to meet sister outfit” and me having her big sister gifts packed in my hospital bag for me to never be able to give them to her there. This isn’t the story of my daughter “meeting” her family virtually. And while literally every single bit of our story of seeing our lovely little girl face-to-face for the first time is 100% absolutely and completely synonymous with “these times” and couldn’t have brought bigger changes to us mentally and physically, the bottom line is I want to try my best to separate the two here. She will know her true story. And I am not hiding our true story from any of you. I just want to separate the two. Maybe it’s for my mental sake of wanting to honor the Holy Godly moments without the surrounding circumstances clouding it, maybe it’s for the sake of me wanting her story to not go hand-in-hand with the beginning and height of a pandemic. The bottom line is I can’t separate the two. Because they are one and the same. It is an unbreakable bond. They are our story. It is her birth story. But, for the sake of me shining light on the moments I feel she deserves to have shone, here we go.
It’s a funny juxtaposition because I fully believe she came into this world knowing she had the strength to do so when she did. Yet through all of our endless time together, I’ve witnessed her pure sweet innocence of what’s going on. Both of which I also honorably believe she knew I would be able to conquer for her and us with strength and grace. So again, let’s let this little light shine for you, sweetheart.
“You are the purest reminder of all things good in the truest form. The world (and I) always need people like you, but we all really needed you in your perfect timing in which you came. You truly and sincerely are such a beautiful blessing.”
Something I had been dreading was the potential of not knowing when my last night of having Bridget as my only child would be. I was fearful that I wouldn’t get to say “goodbye” to her and love on her even extra and have to sneak away in the middle of the night and that would be it – and I’d come back with another baby in my arms and there would be confusion and sadness on her end and mine. I am so so so thankful, happy, and relieved to report, that wasn’t the case. (Praise God.) But you better believe, just in case, I smothered her with love every single night putting her to sleep for gosh, weeks.
March 21, 2020
When I say 3/21/20 was one of the most perfect day of my life. I hope you can grasp that it was just seriously and truly the best day ever. Drew, Bridget and I knew our days as a family of three were dwindling and for reasons only to God gifting us this day, it was our perfect “last day.” We played, we laughed so so hard, and we danced, danced, and then danced some more. I happy cried multiple times that day because it was sincerely the best day ever. It was one of those days you feel you’re watching a movie, sitting back, but it’s your real life and you’re living it. I don’t think you could have a better day than that, right? To not let that kind of day pass you by to later realize it was the best day – but truly and full-heartedly be there in it knowing it while you’re experiencing it. That was that day. Gosh girls, did we twirl and twirl and then twirl some more. In the basement, in her playroom, in the kitchen, in our eating nook, everywhere. We blared music and would laugh and laugh and laugh. I still see Bridget’s face and hear her happiness while I’m writing this, and now I’m crying happy tears all over again remembering that perfect day. I remember cuddling on the couch with her so tightly watching Minnie Mouse – all of it.
That evening when I was cooking her dinner, I was at the stove top and Bridget was in her chair getting ready to eat and watching me cook, I started to feel something. Like the tiniest something, if anything. But, I knew it was something. I kept cooking and then figured I should be timing these things that I think are contractions – so I called Drew and he took over cooking and I went upstairs and laid in bed to count and time them. (Real contractions won’t go away with you lying down relaxing – plus, I could concentrate more on my timing if I was by myself vs cooking, standing up, etc.)
So ladies, please don’t hate me, but I have absolutely zero pain when I have contractions. Seriously, zero. No, not just when they’re starting up labor, I’m even talking when I’m pushing a baby out – zero pain – I do not feel them. I share this because I never really know if it’s the real deal for me because it’s not painful so I just have to listen to my body, and my gut feel and in these moments, I knew it was real, I knew it was happening, I knew it was time. So I started to calmly put my toiletries in my hospital bag (the only thing I leave unpacked until game time) and I text my mom. I told her I think it might be happening but I’m not quite sure, but I’ll let her know what I officially decided to do so she could come over to watch Bridget.
At this point it’s around 7pm and Drew peeked his head in our room to see how I was doing and what the contractions were looking like/is this happening. I told him I thought so but hadn’t really decided what I wanted to do yet. Then he proceeded to give her a bath while I hung out and then I walked in her room to put her to sleep for her bedtime routine together alongside Drew. Once Drew got her in her jammies and all ready, I asked to sit with her in her chair and to lay her down to sleep. And while I was taking her from Drew, I told him I think tonight would be the last night he’d say goodnight to her with her as our only. He gave her an extra kiss and I held her a sweet moment longer than usual in her rocking chair. Talking to her, praying, hugging her, and cherishing this moment that I had been dreading for so long. Yet, when it came time and I stood up and carried her from her chair to her crib and laid her down and watched her immediately drift off, I don’t know what I was so sad about prior. The moment I had been thinking of for so long had officially passed. And it was a nonevent. A sweet event I’ll absolutely forever remember. But, a nonevent. Maybe it’s because I was so grounded in knowing it was time to meet my Cara. Maybe it was because I knew we had the best day ever. Maybe it was because I cherished every single dang moment of those 22 months with her as my one and only. Whatever it may be, it was truly meant to be.
I walked into our bedroom, where Drew was waiting for my decision, and I told him yes, we’re going in, we’re going to have our baby. I knew, not because I was having wild contractions, not because xyz was scarily happening, because I was grounded and I was so in tune with my body and my being, I just knew. He showered and put his toiletries in his hospital bag and I text my mom asking her to come over and that we were going in.
When my mom arrived, we had a moment in the kitchen I’ll always remember. I said I wouldn’t talk about “these times” but the bottom line is my mom would have been at the hospital with me right by my side if it weren’t for “these times” so I knew I was about to walk out that door and not see her for x time, and when I would return, I would have given birth and be bringing home a baby. Next time I saw my mom, I would be a mom of two. Now, if you’re close with your mom, you can then only imagine how this felt. While we were at the very beginning of this pandemic and hospital rules changing, I prepared myself mentally for this worst case scenario moment of not having her there and not having Bridget be able to come to meet her sister – but I didn’t really know until I was in the kitchen with her. She was shaky with excitement and every other emotion I can only imagine sending my daughter off to give birth in this kind of situation would feel like – a mix of a million feelings. I’ve never seen my strong mom out of breath due to feelings, but in this moment, overcome by all of it, she was. In a sweet emotional way. Not a scary way. She proceeded to take off two bracelets that mean the absolute world to her. Not because they’re glitzy and glamorous, but because they have the upmost significant meaning to her. One was given to her by her mother and one was given to her by her father. She then took out one tiny little square of an alcohol wipe and wiped both down and then handed them to me. She said she wanted me to wear them the entire time, so while she couldn’t be there with me to bring my daughter into this world, her granddaughter, she wanted me to feel her beside me every single step of the way. Y’all have no idea how I feel right now writing this. Tears are literally streaming down my face reliving this moment in my mind for multiple reasons. The fact she couldn’t be there, the fact I couldn’t have her, praying I could have the smoothest birth ever so I could just get back home with my baby girl in hand and not have to go through scary complications without her, but even if it was the smoothest ever, I wouldn’t be able to basque in that joyous occasion with her, the fact that alcohol wipes were seriously so hard to come by at that point in time with everyone freaking out stocking up on them and she managed to snag one that she put aside for this moment she had planned in her head, the fact that she felt the need to use an alcohol wipe at all “just in case” given us knowing absolutely nothing of solid foundation in March 2020- the fact that when I was walking out the door she asked if I wanted a hug from her wishing me luck because again, in the very beginning of this, there was no social distancing – it was lockdown – should we be touching when I’m about to go to the hospital and give birth? – it’s pretty overwhelming to relive in my mind. She insisted she take “one last picture” of me and Drew with Cara in my belly, and then we walked out the door and she waved us off blowing kisses. Her bursting emotion beaming from her as we reversed the car out of the garage will be an image I will never forget. Again, mixed emotions. I knew the next time I would see my mom I’d be pulling back in that driveway having gone through the most sacred, huge, life changing experience any woman could go through a couple times in life – if at all. I knew I was pulling out with Bridget sleeping and she’d wake up to my mom, not me. I knew the next time I saw Bridget she would be a big sister. It was a lot. And I was ready. I had mentally prepared myself for this “worst case scenario” moment – that I feel terribly guilty calling it that – but that’s what it was.
I just got so caught up in my emotional moments with my mom, I forgot to share after I text my mom to come over and we got our bags finalized, I paged my OB and filled her in and she called the labor & delivery wing to notify them I was coming. The entire drive was calm as could be. I wasn’t in any pain, we were both cool as a cucumber. We played the exact same songs we had played earlier that day with Bridget dancing and all the feels were felt.
It was the perfect day. And it was about to get better.
Arrive to L&D, deal with the new check-in protocol process, go to triage to see how far along I am and to track contractions to see if I’m really in labor. I was.
I was 80% effaced and 5cm dilated.
I officially was getting admitted to have a baby. One of the most surreal moments I’ve ever experienced and I’ve now been beyond thankful to experience it twice. There’s nothing like being told, “You’re having a baby!” I don’t care if I had done this before, there’s still that shock factor of omg we’re having a baby!!! and you and your husband look at each other with the biggest smiles ever. And you have all these crazy excited feelings running through you on every spectrum of the emotion scale.
Leaving triage and walking into “my room” where I was going to give birth, I saw we were getting checked into room 111. Which was a huge sigh of relief and pure and total happiness for me to see. I’m one of those people that when I see the clock at 11:11, I drop everything I’m doing to make a wish and pray. And truthfully, I even have started having little mini moments when I see the clock at 1:11. I believe the 1s are in full alignment with the angels and I knew walking into room 111, I was being watched over by mine, I was protected, and everything not only was going to be ok, it was going to be perfect. Absolutely perfect. And guess what, it was.
I started getting hooked up to my IV and got settled in the room. I don’t care how many times you give birth, there is nothing like entering your room knowing you aren’t walking out of that room without your baby. These first moments in the room are such a sense of pure pure excitement sprinkled with happy nerves praying everything goes beautifully – praying for a smooth, easy, labor & delivery with a healthy happy mama and baby.
I declared I wanted an epidural and shortly after then received one.
Then shortly after receiving my epidural, we started Pitocin to go ahead and speed things up a bit, which I was all for. (Women who don’t want an epidural and Pitocin, girl you do you, but I have no shame in my game and I’m all for whatever will have me pain-free and a speedy l&d.) And that’s exactly what it was – pain-free and a very very very speedy l&d. I warned my nurse that my body just does not feel any pain or contractions during labor and that once I receive Pitocin that it’s game time in a blink of an eye. And sure enough, I knew my body and I was spot on.
March 22, 2020
Without me even realizing it, my water broke on its own, and before we knew it I was fully effaced and fully dilated. Cara was literally coming out on her own without me even pushing. Needless to say it was a bit crazy for a minute seeing as my doctor wasn’t even there yet with how quickly and effortlessly everything went from 0 to 100. (Thankfully, our doctors have to be able to get to the hospital within 15 minutes and she was on her way). BUT, like I said, Cara was literally coming out all on her own. My nurse grabbed another nurse and a midwife who happened to be available in the hallway because they thought they were going to be the ones delivering my baby girl. I was literally told not to even sneeze and keep my legs closed. (You think I’m kidding…)
Oh, the relief I felt when my doctor came full blown sprinting in the door! She threw on her gear in a hot millisecond and we were ready to go!
March 22, 2020 at 2:46am
One precious push and our Cara Madeline Butler breathed her first breath on Earth at 7 pounds 5 ounces, 19.25 inches. She was ours and we were hers. (Not to spoil the ending, but she still is ours and we are forever hers.)
*I will never ever ever forget the biggest smile of all-time plastered on my face when I was pushing. My nurse literally looked at my face and said aloud in a happy declaration/kind of a blown away disbelief laugh, “She is smiling! She is literally pushing and smiling the biggest smile! You NEVER see that. Wow.” I can still see her look of pure amazement looking at my face. And I can still feel that smile on my face knowing I was about to meet my girl.
But I can tell you one thing, my smile the very second she was placed on my chest immediately following, my smile and heart got bigger. Drew leaned into us and you would have thought it was just the three of us in the room. Our Cara girl was here. Despite me knowing and feeling her for 9 months, we were touching skin-to-skin and diving deep into one another’s eyes with simply our hearts. We were a family of four.
“One precious push and our Cara Madeline Butler breathed her first breath on Earth at 7 pounds 5 ounces, 19.25 inches.”
“You knew when you were entering this world and you knew I could do it with you. Thank you for choosing me to walk this with you. Thank you for choosing me to be your mom. Thank you for teaching me grace. Thank you for opening my eyes to the new. Thank you for everything. I love you more than you’ll ever know, sweet girl.”
Drew cut her umbilical cord, like he did Bridget’s and while we aren’t physically attached anymore, we’re more attached than we’ve ever, ever been before. And I have a feeling, and know, it will only grow deeper.
I fully believe that birthing your child is not just you do the work. It’s you and your baby working in unison, in sync together to birth. They are just as much a part of it as we are. And I am so glad it was you, Cara. For so many reasons. But, one of which is for making things as easy, quick, smooth, uncomplicated, pain-free, and beautiful as humanly possible. You knew I needed that and I thank you for it. We did it. We did it together.
Now, remember how crazy quick Cara came once things got going? I literally went from 5cm dilated & 80% effaced to 10cm dilated & 100% effaced in a matter of minutes. Which means Cara dropped quick and her arrival was super swift, aka, Cara was bruised from traveling so quickly and she wasn’t happy about it either. We had our Bridget who didn’t make a peep when she arrived, and then we had our Cara who let it be known she didn’t have anytime to compute what she just experienced and she made sure to tell us about it. That girl had some pipes on her and some very very healthy lungs. (Which, we are thankful for.) I mean, like, we were all literally laughing out loud in the delivery room at her making it known what had just happened. (Which is really funny and ironic because we’ve now had the pleasure of being with Cara every minute of everyday for an entire year now, and she never cries or makes a peep!)
Drew didn’t get to walk to the waiting room and be greeted by our big family’s massive smiles, jumping for joy and running back to the room to meet us. I didn’t get to have that moment with my mom giving me such an embrace and kiss on the head while meeting her daughter’s daughter. Cara didn’t get to physically receive any sort of physical loving from anyone. But she got mine and Drew’s. And I PRAY she spiritually felt connected to everyone’s prayers, warm welcomes, and well wishes. Because she deserves it. We didn’t have our family or a photographer there to basque in our purest joy of our brand new baby, but we did have each other. We took pictures of one another, we took selfies, we had our nurse take pictures, and most importantly, we took mental frames. We didn’t have our family in the waiting room busting to run in, everyone was at their respective home, but we text them, we FaceTimed them, and we called them. And just like that, Cara met her family, and they met her. We didn’t have the warm elated tight embraces and kisses that we would have received seeing them in person, but Drew and I gave them to one another. In true fashion of trying to look at the silver lining of situations, yes we got to have those first hours of it just being the three of us bonding, but of course experiencing both births, we missed the love. But that never got in the way of any sort of out of body mental or physical strength to bring my child into this world “alone.”
I also want to make it clear, we didn’t get to come home to our family greeting us either like could be possible now. There weren’t COVID tests yet. There wasn’t quarantining information to where doctors knew it would be safe if family did xyz in advance. There were no vaccinations. This was the VERY beginning. No one met her. I even sent my mom home once we got home from the hospital and were back with Bridget. I didn’t see her for months after. Hard is an understatement. And it had nothing to do with how easy our babies were to us. But I had the strength. So did Cara. So did Bridget. And so did Drew.
“We were a family of four.”
“Hard is an understatement.”
The nurse that was on my first shift in the recovery room post-delivery, I’ll never forget her. She was about our parents age with the sweetest disposition and gentlest soft-spoken soul. She told me her daughter is pregnant who lives in California and she hopes by the time she gives birth this will all be over and she’ll be able to be there for her. I told her my heart went out to her and I sure hope so. (As I physically stood there at my weakest, but mentally my strongest, without my mine.) She told me she could tell Drew and I were meant to be together and continued to compliment me and our new family. Whether she meant it or not (which I believe she did) I so needed that in that moment. She said that she knows our family must be proud of us and wishing they were there in that moment. And that she was here for me in that moment. It’s like we both were missing what each other represented to one another. We were each other’s puzzle piece.
I full-heartedtly believe we had angels surrounding us there. And she was probably one of them.
We were in and out of the hospital in a blink of an eye. I gave birth March 22, 2020 and we were back home the afternoon of March 23, 2020. I was admitted for all of 30 something short hours start to finish. And honestly, that’s what I prayed for. Prayers were answered that day and while this story weighs both heavy and happy on my chest, it is full of 100% gratitude, gratefulness, and then some.
Cara girl, you are pure strength, pure love, pure sweetness, and absolutely truly meant to be. You knew when you were entering this world and you knew I could do it with you. Thank you for choosing me to walk this with you. Thank you for choosing me to be your mom. Thank you for teaching me grace. Thank you for opening my eyes to the new. Thank you for everything. I love you more than you’ll ever know, sweet girl.
Bridget seeing Cara for the first time:
Motherhood is the most cherished club to be a part of and I couldn’t be more grateful or honored to be a mom. I truly am blessed. Cara is a dream come true and we couldn’t be more in love with her and being her parents.
The four of us have an unexplainable beautiful bond that will never be broken.
We did it.
- BRIDGET BUTLER’S BIRTH STORY
- LABOR & DELIVERY ADVICE
- A NOD TO PREGNANT & NEW MAMAS DURING COVID-19
- SECOND PREGNANCY vs. FIRST PREGNANCY
Read More »