You came into the world in a hurry. A week ahead of time, and after a bit of a false start, you made quite the entrance earth-side (good thing those docs are quick on their feet).
I swear you came out smiling, and haven’t stopped since. You were sweet, quiet and loving from the moment you snuggled onto my chest. I caught a glimpse of your red hair, your pink skin and your perfect birthmark and my heart melted. You see, the weeks leading up to your birth I’d been so worried. Worried that Emmett wouldn’t understand why this new person had joined our family. Worried that making the transition to a family of four would be stressful. And honestly, worried that I couldn’t possibly love another human being the way I love your daddy and your brother.
Well, in that very first moment I knew we had absolutely nothing to worry about. I loved you instantly and ferociously, and knew you made our family complete. Emmett stormed into the hospital so excited to meet you, and I swear he fell in love right then. For us, four was the perfect number.
Those hazy crazy newborn days didn’t seem quite so crazy with you. You settled into life at home seamlessly, sleeping through games of scream-tag (a toddler favourite in this house), trips in the stroller, and any chaos we threw your way. You also slept through the night at about two months old (an unbelievable and completely unexpected surprise for your mama) and with the exception of a few stretches of teething or when you’re a little under the weather, you sleep like a champ to this day.
I’m pretty sure we had an understanding this year, you and I. You would take your time, soak up the world around you, smile often and easily and be a beacon of sweetness. I would appreciate every moment, and convince myself that you’d be a baby for just a little bit longer. Because I secretly love scooping up my sidekick and popping her on my hip, giggling together while we dance with your brother in the kitchen, and spending time just you and I while you’re nursing.
And while you’ve been mastering the army crawl for the last couple months (girl, your core strength is impressive), I think you waited for your first birthday to stand and cruise (which you did this week by the way). Because I think you knew that once you started standing you’d look just a little bit more like a toddler, and you knew my mama heart just wanted to soak up those last few baby moments for as long as possible. I even procrastinated planning your birthday party because I just wasn’t ready (which, for the record, resulted in a less-than-$10 homemade cake… that I’m pretty sure you loved more than your brother’s $100 one).
You see, while I love watching you conquer every new milestone with love and humour and determination, I worry a little that I may not have crammed in enough snuggles. Or snuck in enough baby kisses or nibbled enough chunky thighs this past year. You see, you’re the baby of the family, and your life will be full of our last firsts. As you grow, and learn and tackle the challenges of the world I feel immensely proud and blessed to be your mom. Those moments of doubt and nostalgia sometimes creep in, and I can’t help that. But here’s what I know:
You’re strong.
You’re kind.
You’re brave.
You’re loving.
You’re smart.
You’re beautiful.
You are not better than anyone else, and no one else is better than you.
You’re a tiny, wonderful miracle, and we’re so honoured to have you in our lives.
We love you, Charlie Sue. Happy first birthday.
Xo
