Happy 1st Birthday Andi!

Andi turned "1" today. She is a sweet spirit. Five years ago if you had told me that I would have twins and a one year old I would not have believed you. On the very last attempt we would make at infertility treatment, the IVF worked and we got twins. When they were two, we were shocked, and given our history of losses, very cautiously optimistic to find out another little girl was on the way.

She fits in. Everyone loves her to bits and pieces. I have gotten to enjoy her so much more than I enjoyed the twins. Two babies is, work. Let's just be honest. That first year nearly kills you. One baby, comparatively, was easy, and pure enjoyment.

Today, amidst the excitement, I had this sense of sadness lurking in the back of my stomach. It was a happy day, and we were all content, in the moment, and unified in our celebration of Andi. At bath time, though, I finally paid attention to the sadness. I called it out. I asked what it was about. It was telling me it didn't want to put Andi to bed. I felt grief. And I finally realized it was because I was sad to let go of her infancy. When she wakes up tomorrow, she'll no longer be my baby. She will be my toddler. I loved having her as a little baby, often couldn't get enough of her. And as with all things loved, there is a grieving that comes with acknowledging it's passing.

Now this isn't meant to be a tone of darkness and depression. I'm just noting the mix of emotions that have come up at this milestone.

I feel excited anticipation, too. She is walking, she is saying words. She is showing a sense of humor, laughing at herself when she falls. (She has my sense of humor). She can reach for my hand, and lead me where she wants me to go.

This moment, where she sits at the crux of infancy and toddlerhood, is just one of those times that reminds us...me...to appreciate the everyday moments with my children. To really look into their eyes, and if I can just memorize the sparkle that comes back at me, the way her cheeks jiggle when she walks, the smooth softness of her skin, her tiny voice, her whispy hair that never quite lays down, even the sweet smell of her baby breath as she breathes, sleeping on my shoulder as I comfort her, as I often do when she wakes at midnight...if I can just memorize it, hang onto it in my mind, so that when I am old and gray, I can call it up and happily relive it in my mind.  And give myself that happiness that the little moments bring me now. I'll be ok, as much as I can be, in letting go of my baby.


Happy 1st Birthday Sweet Andi.