After years of hoping and trying to grow our family, our house is starting to show the signs of it. We have an eight-month-old who, along with the growing number of gadgets and teething toys and safety supplies, has made our home fuller and better, finally.

I imagine our souls were weaving together from the moment he began growing inside me and now our spaces are woven together, too. There is a drawer dedicated to his bibs and bowls and a drying rack on our counter for just-washed bottles. A mini latte bowl holds his pacifiers on our dining room table and burp cloths are stored in small stacks all around the house (yet there never seems to be one in reach when it’s needed).

I love that his high chair pushes right up to the dining room table in between our antique chairs. I love that his toys are scattered on the floor in every room. Like a groggy hug after nap time, his life is nestled up alongside ours and it feels so familiar. When I see a rattle left behind on the side table or catch a glimpse of my nursing cart peeking from behind the yellow chair in our living room, I’m reminded that our son has completely changed the way our home looks. And like our home, our life is different — fuller and better — because he’s finally here.

This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series “Still Motherhood”.


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