A couple-a-three-or-so (I've clearly lost track of time and/or the ability to count backwards)
months ago, a very pregnant Maria came back to Portland so that we could all celebrate the impending arrival of the tiniest member of our rag-tag little family, Ramona Charlie, with possibly the best baby shower of all time (Mean Girls themed and the resident three year old accidentally did a shot of vodka - for the record, EV is an angry drunk).
Anyway, the last time I'd seen Maria, we didn't know Ramona was Ramona yet so talking about Tiny and buying gender-neutral onesies were our only option. This time though, I could barely get in the door of her brother's apartment without squealing at the sight of that seven month bump and practically launched at Maria because LA is too far away and I don't get to hug her nearly as often as I want to.
Before I could even put my purse down though, she stopped me and with a smile on her face and said she needed to ask me something... And then she asked me to be godmother to her daughter.
And then I cried.
And then her sister asked her what the hell she did to me.
And then I cried some more. Because never in my life have I been so honored. Also, I may have continued to cry every time I thought about what it means to be a godmother to such an amazing baby girl for like, the rest of the week.
So I suppose it goes without saying that when Maria went into labor and let three aunties know their newest niece was fully on her way, there was appropriate hysteria. In fact, I'd be so bold as to say our four-way text message thread from that 24 hours or so is one of the greatest masterpieces of all time.
All night we waited.
Laura, Ashley and I texted and called back and forth between us, hoping one might have gotten word in the meantime. I was texting Lizz (Maria's sister) with the fervor I would usually reserve for the second coming, or finding out how much longer the wait will be for a table at Tasty N Sons (fifteen more minutes, always about fifteen more minutes) (or, in Maria's case, two more centimeters, always about two more centimeters). The real fun was once Ria got an epidural and joined in on the conversation herself. We were all getting a little goofy at that point...
Finally, FINALLY... There she was.
July 24, 2014 at 1:45am - 7 lbs, 8oz and 19.5 inches of incredible wrapped in the fiery little Martin package.
And so she's here. Ramona is here! My goddaughter is here and I can't believe how much I love this tiny person! The world is forever changed and my heart will never be the same because SHE'S HERE! Welcome to the world, Tiny girl.
You are loved so incredibly, you have no idea.
Pictures from our first meeting coming up next...