ILA MAY // PORTLAND
Six days old. Born on a December day, underneath winter stars. A full head of hair and perfect toes.
Her brother holds her and looks at her little face; her family holds her as the rain falls outside.
They swaddle her and lay her on the bed and she looks tiny in a sea of white covers.
They watch the way her hands move, they way she sighs in her sleep, the grey of her eyes when she opens them to the light.
She is all miracle and sunbeam. She is something new and incredible. She is the beating heart of this sweet family.