two weeks and one day, part 3

This year's anniversary of Squirt's due date - two weeks and one very long day before her birthday - is all the more bittersweet now that there's another baby on the way. I spend a great deal of time thinking of what I will do differently as I prepare for the birth of Squirt's tiny sibling, and I deeply hope the experience will be both healing and uplifting; however, as I hope and prepare, I realize that nothing will ever change what happened with Squirt. We will never regain what we lost - those treasured first moments, that entire first week. I will never be the first to touch her, the first to welcome her to the world. I will forever feel the hurt of having the most glorious piece of my soul being taken from me, kept from me, while all I could hear was her crying for me. A piece of my heart will always be broken remembering the hours of needless isolation as we were kept apart before I could even touch her.

But, as I struggle to come to peace with Squirt's birth and make room for the new baby to have it's own experience, I also delight in the wonder of this tiny toddler. She and I bonded fiercely after she was born - I really do feel that obstacles I had to overcome just to spend time with her, and the time she had to spend without me after months of never being alone, deepened that bond. I hope we will always be close, that she will always come to me for comfort, love, and support - indeed, building that kind of relationships with her has become one of my greatest goals. It is with both joy and sadness that I watch her excitedly prepare to enter preschool. She is growing increasingly independent and, as always, opinionated. There are days she tells me to "go away" as I leave her at daycare. I leave proud to see her growing and finding her own place in this world, but sad to see that my place in her world is shrinking. Without fail, though, she greets me at the end of the day with a beaming smile, and my heart grows a few sizes.

As her third birthday stands like an exclamation point on the horizon, I reflect on this last year - on all of them, really - and am just so amazed how much she's changed (and how much she's remained the same). I love this age and wish I could just freeze time and stay here forever. She is still my snuggly, sweet little girl. I can still cure all boo-boos and scares with a hug and a kiss. She is small enough for me to carry and hold close, but big enough to explore the world at my side. She (mostly) sleeps through the night. She does have her tantrums, but she is able to tell me what's upsetting her and, usually, a tight hug and some tickles will make things better. The world to her is still beautiful and new, full of goodness and wonder - the scariest things are the imaginary spiders that lurk in her woolie pajama pants, and even they are pacified with a stern warning to stay away and go home to their moms.

I love this girl with all my heart, and I know she loves me just as much. I am so thankful for every moment we spend together and feel so blessed to have her in my life. While the upcoming two weeks and one day will be filled with remembrance of the challenges we had to overcome, they will also be filled with joy. The world is such a better place for having her presence, and I plan to savor the next 15 days with her as we approach the big three, the last birthday with just us. Happy almost birthday, Squirt. You're amazing.

 

Almost three.