Seven months.
That's how long Sally Hope has been in our lives, and it's hard to remember what life was like before her.
When Olivia and I chose her middle name—Hope—it was intentional. We wanted her to carry that word with her, to embody the optimism and possibility that has defined our journey.
Seven months in, she's already teaching us more than we could have imagined.
The Lessons
Presence: Babies don't care about your to-do list. They don't care about your business goals or your content calendar. They demand presence. And in that demand, they teach you how to actually be present—something most of us have forgotten how to do.
Patience: Nothing happens on your timeline with a baby. Sleep happens when it happens. Feeding happens when it happens. Milestones happen when they happen. This has been a masterclass in releasing control and trusting the process.
Wonder: Sally experiences everything for the first time. Watching her discover her hands, taste new foods, hear new sounds—it reminds you that the world is actually miraculous. We just stop noticing.
Priorities: When you have a child, your priorities clarify instantly. What matters? What doesn't? What's worth your time? What's just noise? Parenthood is a brutal editor of your life.
Love: I thought I understood love before Sally. I didn't. The love you feel for your child is different—fiercer, more vulnerable, more complete. It rewires you.
The Challenge
I won't pretend it's been easy. The sleep deprivation is real. The constant demands are exhausting. The worry is ever-present.
There have been moments when I've wondered how I'm supposed to build businesses, create content, and be present for my family all at the same time. The math doesn't seem to work.
But here's what I've learned: it's not about balance. It's about integration. Sally isn't separate from my work—she's part of why I work. She's not competing with my mission—she's central to it.
The Name
We named her Sally Hope Collins.
Sally, after family.
Hope, after the mission that defines our lives.
Collins, connecting her to the lineage she comes from.
Every time I say her name, I'm reminded of what matters. Hope isn't just a concept—it's a person now. It has a face, a laugh, tiny fingers that grip mine.
The Future
I don't know what Sally will become. I don't know what challenges she'll face or what path she'll choose. But I know that she'll be raised in a home where hope is central, where purpose matters, where love is abundant.
And I know that watching her grow will continue to be one of the greatest teachers I've ever had.
Seven months down. A lifetime to go.
Here's to Sally Hope, and to all the lessons still to come.
