First Birthday

This morning, laying together on the bed, I soaked up my baby. Her smell, her softness, her little breaths, her precious, oh-so-momentary piece of stillness in a day full of motion.

One year old . . . One year ago at the time that I write this I was holding a tiny newborn, being rolled to the recovery room in a rosy haze of tiredness, weakness and love. I was in love for the second time. This time with a tiny, stirring bundle with quiet hands and big beautiful eyes.

Thank you God for my little girl. Thank you for the gift of this day, the gift of the cosy, frozen-in-time moment with Turtle (and her "softie"!) on my bed. Thank you for the budding maple branches, dark against the white-gray sky and the birds conversing in springtime chirps. There on the bed, that closeness, her lying against me, I felt that if I could just have moments like this every now and again I could do anything. I was full and happy -- the comfortableness, the silent peace, resting in the smell and the touch of my growing little girl. I love her. Thank you God for this wonderfully hard and challenging and absolutely breathtaking year.

I have been blessed beyond what I could have imagined.