A year ago yesterday our sweet Ans came into the world at a whopping 10 pounds, 1.1 ounces, and nine days early. Praise God. Full term never looked so scary.
She's a little walking ball of joy, I tell you. Smiley and social, with just little fly-aways for hair (but more than what she showed up with!) She loves squeaky shoes and playing with her bub, baths and playing outside. She just warms my heart for those rare moments where she'll lay her little head on my shoulder, or swipe at my face with her little hand.
I don't know what it is about first birthdays, but they are kind of monumentally sad... at least for what my experience has been. It's the 'bye bye' to babyhood. So many of the 'firsts' gone. I put her on my lap last night and just held her for a bit, and I swear when she looked at me her first year flashed in front of my eyes... just as fast, it seems, as living it through really felt.
I can remember dropping B off at my mom's for my induction early in the morning.
I can remember ending up in the same birthing room that B was born in. Talk about nostalgia.
I remember updating facebook status', and fear that I'd push forever like I did with B.
I remember Entertainment Tonight and Charlie Sheen being on for the 30 minutes that I did push.
And I remember the last minute and a half or so of fear and a stuck child.
I remember the comment, "Hon, you've just had a really big baby," by my OB.
I remember panicking, trying to figure out what that meant.
Moments later I found out... 10 pounds... 1.1 ounces.
I remember more panic. How bad is this really? Will things ever be the same? Is she okay? (Prayerfully, thankfully, yes. Perfect.)
I remember holding my little bruised blessing for the first time.
And I remember going home.
And lots of meals prepared by lots of friends. Dumplings and Taco Soup, Casseroles and chicken. Many blessings by many friends.
I remember ice packs and hydrocodone. Bless that medicine, bless it.
I remember sitting up in the recliner with a sweet baby girl sleeping.
I remember seeing daddy with his phone over her pack in play in the middle of the night... that first night she slept 8 hours.
And then just weeks later sleeping twelve. Consistently.
I remember trying to get us all into church.
And putting on little girl clothes.
And it's all a blur.
A lovely... messy... awesome blur.
I don't quite understand it. I become emotional and so very thankful over many many memories of my children's lives, but looking back over the first year of either of their lives has an impact on me that's so very difficult to explain. To explain the great love that you immediately feel and continue to live out in those first months of a baby's life. To bond not only with them, but with your spouse. To adjust to life and watch your priorities take a dramatic turn... happily... there's no way to explain the joy that comes with sleepless nights... and then the joy that comes with sleeping nights. There's no way to explain the effect of soft coos and wrinkly hands, little heads that cannot yet support themselves, little feet that have just recently been pelting you in the ribs, now so soft and fragile fit in the palm of your hand... every little thing about it is a blessing... a joy... a real moment that one can't... or shouldn't... forget.
I can't wait to see what her future holds.