Thursday, June 20, 2013

One Year Ago

One year ago, right now, I was in a hospital room. Hooked up to stuff. Wide as the earth. In labor. One year ago, I was anxiously awaiting her exodus from my body. I already knew her pretty well. She'd been holed up inside of me for 37 and a half weeks. I'd felt her grow and move, hiccup and kick. I knew that she was full of life. I knew that she was going to be beautiful.  I knew that I loved her as much as I love her brother and sister. I knew that she was going to be awesome.

And, she absolutely, beyond a shadow of a doubt, exceeded my expectations.
And, at 6:13 in the morning on June 20, there she was. This 9 pound bouncing baby girl. Full of life. Stunningly beautiful. I loved her as much as I love her brother and sister. She was awesome.
Evie Sue.

Nothing could prepare me for the addition of the third. Nothing. I was completely knocked off of my feet. Many days I've not known if I was coming or going, whose name was what, if I'd ever get the laundry ever done (I still have not). 
In the past year, as she's grown like a milkweed, we've grown a bunch as a family. We've become bigger, better, stronger, happier. I know that we could have done it without her, but we've done so much more because of her. She makes us laugh. She makes us sing. She makes us shine. We all have gotten this amazing opportunity to live our lives vicariously through her newness, through her wonder, through her explorations. And, I know that she has reminded us all of a light that we all have inside of us that we often forget is there. It is a light that beckons us to love and simplicity and tells us that there is so much more in this world to be aware of, that there are so many fantastic adventures in the most unassuming of places, that joy can be found in the very moment in which we all live.
So, we've slowed down. We don't need those things that are outside our little worlds to find excitement. We know that what we need is right in front of all of our faces. In our home. In our immediate people. Within us. With each other.
In this past year, we've grown as a family as we've watched our sweet, squishy muffin face grow. She's shown us a way that we may have never known without her. We've watched her learn to grab for things, to recognize the people who love her, to roll over, to crawl, to sit up, to walk, to make sounds, to smile, to laugh, to eat, to be independent, to be part of a family. And, while she was growing in all of these ways, we've grown right along with her.
Happy birthday, my sweet Evie Sue. Thank you for being ours. Happy birthday, Family. We are so loved. So fortunate. One year ago, you made all the difference, my precious baby girl.