Nostalgia

Tomorrow is H's 2nd birthday. In some ways it seems like it's been forever and in some ways it's flown by. All you mamas out there will understand. There are days you think will never end and there are days you turn around and your baby is two. I'm not sure if it's more difficult because he's the baby or because of the circumstances surrounding his birth. It's difficult nonetheless.

S and I were talking about that fateful night a few days ago, about what we remember happening. While it seems to still be so fresh in my mind, there are many gaps that I just can't fill in. There are times when I can talk about it freely and openly, sharing the amazing story of the night H was born, the night God did so many miracles I lost count. And then there are times when the mere thought of it all brings me to tears and I must move on to something else lest I become a puddle of mush.

H is now a beautiful two-year-old boy, thriving, a miracle in my home. Sometimes I think about what my life would be like if we'd stopped after having just one baby. Life would be simpler, I'd be freer to do more, there wouldn't be nearly as much laundry, the house would be quieter. But I remember that the reverse is also true: life would be emptier, there wouldn't be as many cute dresses that make K and L look like princesses and precious button-down shirts that make H look like a little man, and the house would be almost hollow. Those sounds of laughter, of tears, of little voices wouldn't be there. And my life wouldn't be as full.

Last year, when I put H to bed the night before his first birthday, I cuddled him, rocked him in my arms and got teary as I said goodnight to my baby boy. I know I'll do the same tonight.

Here's to H, may you have a happy birthday and try not to grow up too fast.