One Year Old
One year ago today we welcomed Tres into our world. It has been an amazing year. Here’s the letter I wrote to her after she arrived.
One week ago today I was sitting in a hospital surgery triage room hooked up to any number of tubes and clickers and IV’s and things that made beeping noises contemplating a visit from the anesthesiologist who would undoubtedly assure me that this time (as opposed to the births of your sisters) he would not use my spine as a pin cushion and poke with abandon to try to find the magical place that would numb me all over and make it possible for you to enter this world.
It was a low point for me. I looked up at your father and said:
“God can have the baby back, I just don’t want to do the c-section.”
Did I mention it was a low point for me? Because, sadly, I meant those words.
I’d like to blame such a mean-spirited proposition on the fact that I’d been having contractions since dinnertime the night before, on the four hours of sleep I’d gotten, or any number of things that had gone on that might make me willing to make a Rumplestiltskin-like trade for my child.
But I can only blame fear and the truth that sometimes, knowing what you’re going in to is much, MUCH worse than being unprepared. The phrase, “Ignorance is Bliss” exists for a reason.
While sitting in that triage room I realized that there is really nothing I fear, dread, and generally hate more than the preparation for a c-section. It is what I started to dread the moment I saw the second line on the pregnancy test confirming your new life had begun inside of me.
So I was in a kind of bad mood as they wheeled me into the operating room and started audibly counting sponges and scalpels and tweezers and such so they wouldn’t leave anything inside of me except my uterus, which had an undeniable right to be there in the first place.
About 20 minutes later, after discovering that this time the anesthesiologist really did only need one excruciating poke to find the magical, numbing sweet spot, I heard your scream fill the air. At that moment I realized…
(Wait for this one, Tres, these are words you probably won’t hear very often in your life because they taste pretty sour to me…)
… I was wrong.
I am so grateful that God didn’t take you back so I could avoid a c-section! You are worth every contraction pain, every sore muscle, every emotional hormonally driven moment, every day spent in nausea, every uncomfortable moment of the last nine months, three weeks and four days.
You are more than worth it.
I fell in love with you the moment I heard your voice and the doctor said, “She’s big! And where did she get that temper?!”
When Daddy brought you to me and I saw your fat little cheeks and he said in wonder, “She’s 8 lbs, 15.6 oz!” you were disoriented but I was completely committed.
By the time we made it to the hospital room where we would spend the first four days of your life and you nursed like a barracuda for the first time I felt like a piece of me that I hadn’t known was missing had been returned.
And in this past week when I have spend time staring at your silly little face, remarking on the line across your nose that makes you look like a grumpy pug, watching you move your long fingers back and forth and seeing that every part of you is practically perfect in every way… Well, let’s just say that you’re a part of our family forever. And we’re so incredibly happy about that.
Actually, let me choose a different word. Because while happy is the overriding emotion I’ve had in the past week it doesn’t quite convey the depth of what we’re feeling. Joy comes closer but I think the word I’m really looking for is:
We are incredibly blessed to know you’re a part of our family forever. That God sure knew what He was doing.
Love you! Mommy
2 thoughts on “One Year Old”
Happy Birthday Tres.. enjoy…
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