This New Year we’ve got big news – in the form of a 7-pound-10-ounce bundle of joy!

I’ve never been so happy to write a New Year’s post as I am this year.

I’ve written several New Year’s posts since starting my blog-turned-small-business six and a half years ago (six and a half!!).

There have been years of joy, years of reflection. Years of gratitude, of heartache, and of heart-in-the-right-place-goals from a younger version of myself.

But this year – this year is the year I write the post I’ve always dreamed of and barely wished to hope for.

It’s like all those other posts all wrapped into one. The heart-exploding love I have for this tiny gift of life. The absolute terror of my heart existing in a living being outside of myself. The deep, deep gratitude I have for a partner who loves, supports, and cares for me and our family so well and so intentionally.

This year I introduce you to our new son, James Allen Kent.

He didn’t make it easy, but after 24 hours of labor, James was born sunny-side up with a full head of hair and strong set of lungs. His father and I don’t know where his tiny button nose came from (certainly neither of us), but we fell immediately in love and (almost) don’t mind waking up every hour during the night to feed him.

Little Jamie has completed our family this year. We’re celebrating with joy and snuggles from his grandparents, auntie, and big brother.

His dad and I are tired. And we’re so, so happy.

On a very personal note, I debated whether or not to share this poem which I wrote when I was still pregnant with little James. But in case this resonates with you and your little one – whether biological, spiritual, or just of the same heart – I thought I would share this with you:

To Baby James

Baby boy,
there aren’t words
to tell you
how much I love you.

I’ve loved you for so long;
long before I knew you,
long before I dared to hope for you,
long before I felt your kicks and hiccups.

I’m so grateful for you,
baby boy.

For however long you’re mine,
I’ll love you every moment;
whether years or months or minutes,
I’ll love you as long as you’re here.

And if you leave this earth before me,
you’ll take a piece of me with you;
I’ll never be
the same,
but it all
will have been worth it,
just to know you at all.

Baby boy,
take all of this love
and multiply it,
share it with the world.

You don’t have to
do great things or
earn any of my affections,
but please –
take all of my love
and carry it forward.

This is my wish for you:
not for riches or power or fame,
but for love and kindness and connection.

May you be happy
and bring joy to all who know you.

I love you,
my sweet
baby boy.

If 2022 brings even a fraction of the delight and love we’ve experienced just in these last few weeks, it will be one of the most wonderful years yet.

I hope 2022 brings the same joy to your family.

With love,

Ann from Peas and Hoppiness

For more joy, learn the origin story of Hoppiness.