|Me at forty-three|
My final selfie is an oldie but a goodie. I was born very, VERY premature, at six months two-weeks. I was only a little over two pounds and then proceeded to lose weight. No one thought I'd make it through the night but my mom sat by my incubator and flicked my foot to remind me to breath. I kept breathing and a little over two months later I got to go home. Funny enough, because my mom was a nurse in the hospital that she had me in, I was a totally spoiled baby. The second I was allowed out of the incubator, it is said, I was never put down, lol. The nurses carried me around with them so I never cried. When mom got me home she said I was the most spoiled baby she'd ever seen! I cried every time she put me down. Thank god sometimes I slept, like I was doing here. Sorry mom! Beside me is a newly sharpened pencil, used to show just how darn small I was.
|Me at two and a half months|
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