Tag: celebration

  • From a Feeling to Forever

    From a Feeling to Forever

    My dearest Shavu Vavu,

    Exactly one year ago, on April 9th, 2025, our world quietly and beautifully changed. That day started like any other, until something deep inside me felt different. I can’t explain it, but I just knew. Before I told anyone—even your dad—I decided to check. It was just a feeling, a quiet whisper in my heart and somehow, it turned out to be true. Two little lines appeared, and in that moment, time stood still.

    I remember staring at them, my heart racing, my hands trembling, and a million emotions rushing in all at once—joy, disbelief, love, and a deep, overwhelming sense that life would never be the same again. Because of you. You were our tiny, beautiful secret for a little while. And then came the moment we began sharing the happiest news of our lives with our closest family. 

    Your dadu and dadi had just landed in New Jersey for a one month trip to the USA when we told them. The moment they heard, everything changed—they couldn’t wait to come back, to be closer, to celebrate you. Their excitement was so pure, so full of love, it made everything feel even more real.

    Motamummy and motapappa were in complete disbelief at first. It took them a moment to process, and then slowly, their faces lit up with the happiest smiles. It was the kind of joy that takes a second to sink in—and then stays forever.

    And the rest of your little world? Oh, they were over the moon. Chachi, chachu, mimi, and mamu were crazy happy—full of excitement, laughter, and so much love for you already. You were celebrated from every corner, by everyone who matters to us.

    And then came the waiting. Those months felt long and short at the same time. Every day, we imagined you. Were you okay? How would you look? Would you have my eyes? Your dad’s smile? Would you be calm or mischievous? Would you love music, or stories, or cuddles the most?

    We shopped for you with so much love—tiny clothes that felt too small to be real, soft blankets, little socks, cribs and bassinets, car seats and strollers, everything that made us smile every time we saw them. Every item we picked wasn’t just a purchase; it was a dream, a piece of the life we were building for you.

    We spoke your name before you even arrived. We changed our minds a hundred times, searching for the one that felt just right—the one that would carry your story, your identity, your light. And all the while, we waited. We counted days, weeks, moments just to meet you.

    And now, here we are 9 April 2026. One year later, on this very day, you are in my arms. Not a dream, not a thought, not a hope—but real, warm, smiling, and ours. You are four and half months old already, and somehow, it feels like you have been a part of us forever.

    You have filled our home with laughter we didn’t know we were missing, with sleepless nights that we wouldn’t trade for anything (maybe I would), with a love so deep it’s impossible to explain. 

    Looking back, April 9th will always be the day you quietly entered our lives. And today, it’s the day I hold you close and realize—you were worth every second of the wait.

    Always and forever,
    Your Mumma 💛

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    Had to check twice before telling anyone
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    From two pink lines to so many lines, just one year apart!
  • Motamummy’s House Rule: Baby First, Logic Later

    Motamummy’s House Rule: Baby First, Logic Later

    One day, when you’re big enough to read this on your own, we want you to know something. Before you ever remembered anything, you were already the center of everything.

    Motamummy’s house was a place where time moved slowly, arms were always ready to hold you, and love showed up loudly and unapologetically. It was you, your mom, motamummy, japa aunty, mamu, motapappa—and a whole lot of laughter wrapped around a very tiny human.

    You didn’t need toys back then. You had people. People who made absolute fools of themselves just to see your eyes widen. We sang you the weirdest songs—songs with no tune, no logic, and lyrics that changed mid-way. Sometimes we sang about milk. Sometimes about your tiny hands. Sometimes we just sang your name like it was the greatest song ever written. Motamummy took these performances very seriously. You watched us like we were fascinating or mildly confusing. Either way, you stayed quiet, so we counted it as a win.

    And oh, your expressions. You had this way of looking at us like you were already figuring things out. A serious face that made us wonder what you were thinking. A sudden smile that made the entire room freeze and then explode with happiness. Sometimes you made a face so strange that all of us burst out laughing together. You had no idea why—but somehow, you were the joke and the joy at the same time.

    We didn’t just talk to you. We talked as you. In a deep, confident voice, we’d say things like:
    “Relax everyone, I’m in charge here.”
    “Yes motamummy, I know I’m cute.”
    “Mamu, good effort. You may sing again.”

    We gave you a personality long before you could show us yours. You were witty. Slightly dramatic. Very aware of how adored you were. And motapappa—oh, motapappa adored you in the quietest, purest way. Day in and day out. Holding you, looking at you like you were the answer to something he’d been waiting for. You didn’t have to do anything. Just being you was enough.

    We talked about your future a lot. At motamummy’s house, you were already a singer, a storyteller, a traveler, a dreamer. Sometimes you were all of those in one afternoon. We imagined you laughing, walking into rooms with confidence, being kind, being curious. No matter who you became, one thing was always certain—you would be deeply loved.

    I watched all of this with a smile I didn’t even know I was wearing, already saving these moments for later. Motamummy held you like the world could wait. Japa aunty stood close, proud and protective. Mamu brought noise and fun. Motapappa brought calm and endless love. And you—so small, so new—somehow made everyone feel complete.

    Motamummy’s house wasn’t just where you stayed. It was where you were celebrated. Where your earliest days were filled with laughter, silly songs, made-up stories, and a family that thought you were magic. 

    One day, you won’t remember any of this. So we’re writing it down for you. So you know that before you could speak, you were spoken for. Before you could laugh, you were the reason we did. And before you knew what family meant, you were already surrounded by it—every single day. Always remember this:

    You were loved from the very beginning. 🤍

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    Tummy time
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    Sleepy baby
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    Sharva becomes Sharvari
  • A Year of Firsts: Welcoming 2026 With You

    A Year of Firsts: Welcoming 2026 With You

    As the calendar turns and the world steps into 2026, Sharva, you are  just one month old. You don’t know what a “new year” is yet. You don’t know about resolutions, countdowns, or fireworks. Right now, your whole universe is made of warm arms, familiar voices, milk, sleep, and the simple comfort of being held. And yet, this New Year feels bigger and more meaningful than any before it—because it is our first one with you.

    Before you arrived, life was full, busy, and familiar. Days moved quickly. Nights were quiet. Plans were made far in advance, and time felt predictable. We didn’t realize how much space there was in our hearts until you showed us. Life before you wasn’t empty—it just didn’t yet know what it was missing.

    Then you arrived. In an instant, everything changed. Time slowed down and sped up all at once. Nights became shorter, days felt softer, and the smallest moments suddenly mattered the most. A tiny stretch, a yawn, the way you curl your fingers around ours—these became the highlights of our days. You made ordinary moments extraordinary simply by being here.

    Life after your arrival is louder in some ways and quieter in others. There is less sleep, but more meaning. Less routine, but more wonder. We see the world differently now, because we see it through the lens of loving you. You have already taught us patience, presence, and a deeper kind of joy than we ever knew before.

    And now we step into 2026 together.

    This year will be special—not because we know exactly what it will bring, but because it will be filled with your firsts. Your first smiles, your first laughs, your first words, your first discoveries of the world around you. You will grow more each day, and we will grow alongside you, learning how to be the people—and family—you need.

    When you read this someday, you might be much older. You might not remember these early days. But know this: as 2026 began, you were deeply loved. You were our greatest hope, our biggest change, and our favorite part of the future. And you were part of a family that includes not only people who adore you but also your fur sisters: one here to grow up with you, and one watching over you from heaven.

    This year wasn’t just a new year.
    It was the beginning of a life we couldn’t imagine before you.

    Welcome to 2026, little man.
    We’re so glad we get to walk into it with you. ❤️

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    Slumber Party on New Year’s Eve, 31st December 2025