Guys, this time one year ago I was hugely, painfully, 9 months pregnant, and would only be pregnant for about 9 more hours. What the what!? I have a one year old child?? Today the word birthday has a whole new meaning to me. Birthday. As in the day your mother gave birth to you. I’ve been thinking all day about this day last year. It is beyond weird to think of myself with that big old belly. What does (did) that even feel like?? How was it to have that little baby moving around inside, kicking and hiccuping endlessly with her elbows and knees jutting out at odd angles giving my belly a funny shape? When I think about it, it’s like I’m looking at a movie of someone else. On this day, 2012, I was working from home in our old place, insanely uncomfortable at my little “office” desk in the kitchen, wondering if today would be the day but fearing it would another week entirely. I had all of these new baby things that hadn’t been worn, slept in, bathed in, sat in, shaken, drooled on, peed on, pooped on, or sucked on. I could only wonder what this little girl would look like and hope that she had Tanner’s beautiful brown eyes. I knew of the experience of labor only what I’d read in the books and heard from the doctors, and I couldn’t even remember what it felt like to be thin. Or run. Or sleep comfortably.
And then I started having contractions and fretting over my hospital bag. I curled up on the floor trying to decide if it was time to call my husband home from his night class. I was excited and nervous and holy cow, they weren’t lying, contractions hurt. I went to the hospital. And a few (thank heavens only a few) hours later, this little baby came out of me! They put a little beanie on her head, wrapped her in the foot-printed receiving blanket and gave her to me. And she was tiny and beautiful and I couldn’t get over how pretty she was and how little she was and how mine she was.
I think I need at least ten more babies. I don’t know how anyone ever makes the choice that they don’t want children, or that they are done having children. How do you decide you don’t ever want to experience that day again? That birth day.
And now it’s been 365 days. And I kept her alive for every single one of them (tanner helped, too :)). And now I have a one year old that most certainly is not her little newborn self anymore. Happy birthday Camryn! We love you to the stars.