08/22/2022
Well, son. You’re 1.
We went to the hospital in the wee hours of what would have been my dad’s (your namesake, kiddo) 75th birthday. Thought we’d be home before your sister Eleanora woke up. But no. You as well just couldn’t wait an entire gestation period to meet your beloved badass momma.
5 days later you went from head down to b***y down breach baby so the next day on the 22nd, they pulled you out in the evening after a long day of nervous anticipation - exactly 7 weeks before expected.
You are loud at the dinner table, exhausting, unrelenting. You were the one to securely outnumber us parents at 3 vs 2. You freaking started cutting 3 top teeth hours before we boarded our flights to come home from Spain. It’s terrifying and scary and hard, but William, I Love You so much. More every day, my little man.
You’re funny. You just wanna be a part of the conversation at the dinner table. You’ve got Broughton hands, and time will tell, but I hope you have even an ounce of the power of your grandfather’s positivity. I’m so happy and lucky you are ours, son.
