Here she is in all her glory. I had big ideas of the kind of [first] pictures I wanted to take of my baby, and I did not even care how much it cost. I made the appointment to go take the pictures on Wednesday, October 28th 2015, which was a day after her naming ceremony. But when that morning came, I felt like I had been hit by a truck. I didn’t want to wake up just yet, and I definitely didn’t want to wake my baby up and give her a bath. Well, grandma would have given her a bath. But it still counts as me giving her a bath.
Before the appointment, I did my best to put her in a milk coma. I fed her very well until she fell into deep sleep. But when we got there, Ada Verastic decided to show the photographer what she was made of. She would not sleep, nor would she stop crying. We managed to get a few shots, but Ada Verastic was not having it . The photographer – a nice white guy with a long, thick beard – wanted to take a cute naked photo of Ada Verastic and Igwe said hell no, he can’t see my daughter naked. *insert blank stare* I’m gonna type a whole post about Igwe being a Dadzilla. It’s crazy.
Anyway, meet my pride and joy, Ada Verastic. I still owe you my labor and delivery story, I know, and I will share it, I promise. Just give me time; I literally have to steal time to be able to type a post these days. I have to pick between blog, sleep, and food, and so far, sleep has been getting the shortest end of the stick.
So, tell me, who does Ada Verastic look like?
P.S. The bow on her head looks so big and bold, but in my hand, it’s actually very tiny. Everything looks big on little people.