A Birthday Letter

My Sweet Clarice,

Yesterday last year, I woke up and rolled myself out of bed.  I had slept in - your daddy fed your brothers and sister breakfast while I laid under the covers, the little kicks coming from my belly finally dragging me out of sleep.  

I went upstairs just as one of the kids dropped a bowl of cereal.  I sighed, because it was almost impossible to get up and down off the floor anymore with a watermelon belly.  I grabbed a towel and worked myself down to my knees, and I just cried.  It wasn't about the cereal.

It was because I wanted you.  

I wanted to feel your squishy little body snuggled against my chest.  I wanted to see your dainty little lashes brushing your cheeks as you slept.  I wanted to feel your slight breath against my collar bone.  I wanted your impossibly tiny hand wrapped around my finger.

I know the Lord must have seen me that morning, because 12 hours later I was in labor, and 7 hours after that, you were born.  It was the same feeling that you might get if you've been awake for 24 hours and you finally lay down in your warm bed.  It was the same feeling you get when you've been hiking all day and then get into a bathtub of hot water, or when you've been gone on a trip for a week and then you pull into your own driveway.

You were here.  And holding you in my arms was everything I had hoped for.  

I love you, Sweet Baby.  Thank you for reminding me of that feeling, Darling; then and over the last year of watching you grow and now.  Of how good it feels to be home.

Love you always,


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Meagan said...

Happy Birthday, Clarice! :)

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