I hesitate to call her a miracle baby. This isn't really a miracle. In vitro babies, fertility drug babies, babies who are conceived at all odds, babies who survive despite some sort of major trauma, THOSE are miracle babies. This baby, our baby, makes me think of a barnacle. A fighter. She hung on--with a little help--against so many odds.
When I feel her turning around in my tummy, that weird gassy, sloshy goldfish feeling, I keep thinking about that. About my fighter. My little barnacle.
And sometimes, when I think about her, when I look at her latest ultrasound and see that she really is a tiny person growing inside me, especially when I see her little nose (my baby has a nose!) I think "Holy shit. We really ARE having a baby!"
For my Barnacle. And for me. To always remember what a fighter she is.
I definitely want this print for the nursery.