Happy birthday, beautiful girl. You’re a whole year old - bring on the honey and egg whites!I’ve been thinking for a while about what I was going to tell you on your birthday, and I think I need to start by telling you how badly I wanted to have you. Of course I didn't know this before I was pregnant, but having you in my life only confirms what I had heard other Moms say. "Babies are a gift." "Kids are so much fun." "You will never love anything like you love your own child." True, true, and double true.
While I was pregnant with you, I tried to prepare for your arrival as much as I could. I thought I wouldn't be that tired, because I had worked graveyard for so many years and knew what sleep deprivation was like. (PS, I was wrong. Ask me about it when you are older.) I took my vitamins, stopped drinking caffeine and TRIED to eat more vegetables. I saw the doctor, bought a ridiculous amount of stuff and drove your father crazy. Everything an expectant mom should be doing, I did. Your Dad and I spent hours lovingly picking out your nursery decor, and held up each one of your little outfits and dreamed about what you would look like in them. We couldn't wait to meet you.
Here you are now, a year after they brought you to me after a brief stay in the NICU. Those first few weeks with you have changed me forever. They were the hardest, most terrifying weeks of my life, not because you weren’t wonderful in every single way, but because I was not as confident as I thought I was going to be. I was not prepared IN ANY WAY for what having a baby would do to my life, to my heart, to my capacity for worry and love. The weather was HOT, we were isolated in the house and family visits were far too short. Your father couldn’t get very many days off work, and during that time alone with you it felt like my spirit was being shoved through a paper shredder. I didn’t think I’d last a month.
But alas, here we are. I’ve managed to last 12 months, and you did, too! LOOK AT YOU GO. You are a totally different kid now than when we brought you home. For one, you really don't cry anymore. I can remember one night last July when I was certain you, your Dad, and I would never stop crying. But we all did. We have learned to know each other, take care of each other and live together.
Probably the coolest thing about your personality is what your Dad and I refer to as the "maniacal laugh." Sometimes, for no apparent reason, you start doing this maniacal laugh. You must think it is hilarious, because you are so happy when you do it that things have a tendency to get broken. Everywhere we go, people are commenting on how happy you are, and how beautiful your smile is. I agree.
I also love how you grin with your nose scrunched up, and how you chase the cat around. You are constantly learning, growing, and living. I love how when your Dad calls you "Plum" you smile, and when I call you "Angel Pie" you laugh. I am so looking forward to seeing your personality develop and see you become a little girl. I know it will happen fast.
Margot, I love you. I think you are amazing. I am in awe of you almost daily. Happy Birthday.