We did it. We made it through 2018! This has been one of those years that we just needed to survive. Like, survival alone equaled success.

Having a baby in the NICU for weeks was hard. Watching her go through three surgeries was heartbreaking. Caring for not just a newborn, but a newborn on a feeding tube, is stressful. Having to also be present for a spirited child is draining. And getting hit with a postpartum mood disorder on top of all of it felt nearly impossible.

And yet… here we are! It’s officially 2019 and the baby is healthy and happy. Her big brother is… well, you know, a typical 4-year-old (LOL!). We’re going on dates again. And most importantly, I feel like myself again (it’s why you’ve seen an uptick in my work!).

I really hope this doesn’t come off as a brag by any means — oh look at how hard my life was and how well I handled it! Because, y’all, I did not handle this year with grace. I cried a lot, felt like a failure, gave up hope, didn’t spend enough time with my husband and probably yelled too much. But I survived — and sometimes that’s enough.

Okay, so here’s what I want to do now that the year is over. I don’t want to focus on all the ways this year was hard. I want to reflect on the good, the things that leave me thankful. If you had a shit year, then maybe you’ll want to do this, too.

For Thanksgiving, I actually printed and framed some of my favorite moments and put them on the table. I would love to share them (and the stories behind them) with you! So here they are, in no particular order:

My Brendan. This is my favorite shot of the year. To have captured his spirit in an image makes my heart sing. He lives life so hard. He knows what he wants and pushes with everything to get it (I know you other moms can read that as code for stubborn as hell, which can be a challenge to parent but is an amazing attribute of his character). I snapped this image while the kids were playing in a baby pool out back this summer. He had just dumped a cupful of water on his head (I have that image, too, and can’t wait to hang it in their bathroom!).

My Emerie. I can already see her character starting to develop. She is strong and kind, finds so much joy in life and is the old soul at our dinner table. She has a condition called Pierre Robin Sequence, which means her jaw was too small (which made her airway small as well) and the roof of her mouth was open in the back (a cleft palate). I’m beyond thankful that I didn’t need to have the big huge EXIT procedure they warned me about for months when I was pregnant. I had planned to be under anesthesia when she was born — missing the whole experience. Towards the end of my pregnancy, doctors decided she looked good enough to let me have her how I wanted. She came quickly — 4.5 hours of labor — and naturally. I was so happy to hear her sweet little cry because I knew it meant she could breathe (we had worried about that for so long, too). I’m also thankful to have been awake and able to hold her, even if it was only a few minutes before they whisked her away to the NICU.

Our care team — especially our nurses. NICU nurses are a special kind of human. I’m beyond thankful for all the hours they spent advocating for us and our baby, teaching us how to take care of her, and comforting us in the difficult times. I tried to be strong but wasn’t always (so there were a few tears shed, for sure!). I trusted them with my daughter’s life every night when I left to go be with the rest of my family at home. I didn’t take any pictures with them (hello, survival mode) but I like this one of her in her NICU crib.

Learning to let go. I had big plans for this moment, for this picture. We were supposed to meet at the beach where I spent time with my dad as a little girl. We’d let my son play in the inlet. I’d take pictures with my DSLR. We ended up chasing the sunset to the shore. And I forgot my camera at the rental house. I snapped this picture on my phone as the horizon sucked down the last bit of sunlight. Phones just can’t handle the challenge of shooting in low light. So the picture is blurry but you know what? I love it. It makes me feel like I’m there again — stripping down at dusk and swimming in the warm night water. This year has humbled me greatly and led me to let go of a lot of things. Some by choice (like a clean house) and some by necessity (like striving for perfection).

Emerie’s resilience. Here she is smiling and laughing right before her third surgery this year (a cleft palate repair). She didn’t come out of surgery that happy, of course, but all-in-all she takes everything in stride (which is great when you have a spirited brother — see above).

Time surrounded by strong women. I got to spend a lot of time with my mom and grandmother this summer. There’s something special about feeling supported by the women who came before you as you learn to raise your own daughter. My grandmother has always told me about how she’d bounce me to sleep on her belly when I was baby. I had a vision of what that looked like all these years — me face-planted against her squishy belly, snoozing away. But nope. “It was JUST like this,” she whispered to me as my little one fell asleep sitting up. We all enjoyed that moment so much. Having it captured in an image is priceless.

Their budding relationship. I’ve heard this is the best and trippiest part of having more than one kid — watching these two humans you created form their own bond outside of their relationships with you. Woah, yeah, for sure. He is her protector and her first friend. She will be the first woman — beyond his mother — to have his heart. Priceless. Absolutely priceless. I feel good knowing they’ll have each other when I’m gone someday.

Lazy afternoons with Brendan. It’s hard making time for both kids. I cherish the afternoons I get to play with my son while his baby sister sleeps. Here he is this past summer, popping into the window while I tried to spray him with the water hose.

My happy baby. This picture cracks me up. I took it on the morning I did portraits for my son’s preschool (most people bring in younger and older siblings, too). She lost it (as it turns out she was getting sick). I love this picture because it’s so NOT her. She’s such a content, go-with-the-flow kind of kid. One of her doctors liked to call her “mellow yellow.” Definitely a much different energy from her big brother!

A moment of calm in the storm. Once we finally left survival mode, I entered panic mode. It’s like my body finally had to process the stress and trauma of the previous 8 months. I’m so thankful for the support of friends and family as I worked through it. Also thankful for moments like this where the clouds parted and I felt like myself — even if for a brief few minutes. Thank you to my husband for capturing this image and without prompting! I was in my pajamas, day three hair, lying on the front porch couch (one of my favorite spots in the warmer months). When I look at this picture, I can feel the love I have for those sweet little babes of mine.

There’s one person noticeably absent from my framed images and that’s my husband. I guess because I didn’t have one image to sum up the way I felt. Or maybe it’s because he felt like a part of everything. I would have been absolutely lost this year without him. I was lost this year and he was the one who filled the void — my constant. We were in the trenches together and there’s no one I’d rather have by my side. I’m sorry I apparently didn’t include you on the thanksgiving table. I love you beyond!

Okay enough self-reflection for now! I’d love to hear about the moments that made you thankful in 2018. Leave me a comment below!