So Richly Blessed

Seven years ago today, I took my first tentative steps back into this little yellow house after almost three days away.  As I cradled a tiny person ever so carefully, the place suddenly looked different.  For two years, The Hubbs and I had been playing house, but all of a sudden, I was home. 

Two days prior, I awoke in the hospital to the news that it had snowed eight inches overnight. The Hubbs had been sent home to get his rest, and he was - well, let's just leave it at he was not a fan of driving in the snow.  While he made his way through the slop outside, I was given the stuff to induce labor.  Over the next nine and a half hours or so, lots of stuff went down.  I remember swearing heartily about the useless yoga ball, walking a lot, nearly breaking The Hubbs' hand at one point, and him telling me not to be a hero...just take the damn painkillers already. 

In the end, nothing could have prepared me for what was to come.  A little pink person, squinting and perfect, was handed to me by my midwife.  She asked me if it was a boy or a girl; she hadn't looked, and I wanted the honor of being the first to know. 

I looked into those tiny, confused eyes, and something in me shattered.  I whispered her name and tears spilled onto my cheeks.  Carefully, so carefully, I pulled The Hubbs in for our first family hug. 

The next two days were a whirlwind as we adjusted to being parents in a strange place.  People were in and out of the room what seemed like every five minutes.  Visitors, my doctor and midwife, pediatricians, nurses, lactation consultants and more visitors.  We learned so much in these two days, but everything still seemed so surreal. 

Back home on Friday the 13th, I looked at our home with fresh eyes.  This was no longer just the little yellow house where we first kissed (so I bought it!); it was now the place where we would raise our family. 

As The Hubbs drove to The Grumps' house to pick up our bulldogs, I walked our new addition slowly from room to room. I talked nonstop, telling her where we were and explaining what the things around her were for.  Before long, I ran out of steam, and we settled into the recliner to wait for Da to come home.  

Dozing with her on my chest, I heard the door open from the garage, and my big, beautiful bulldogs cautiously entered the kitchen, sniffing away.  The came to me and so very gently nudged the little pink bundle I was holding.  These girls knew exactly what had happened, and there was no doubt they understood that this was their little sister on my lap.  

From that day forward, our girl has had two loving, furry protectors at her side.  Thanks to them, she not only has no fear of animals, but she also seems to connect with them on a level that's hard for me to explain.  

It's not every day my life changes forever, but it is every day I thank my lucky stars to have been so richly blessed.  

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Princess,

There are three things I tell you every day:

You are sweet.

You are kind. 

You are loved. 

There are no words significant enough to explain the depth of a parent's love, so I have done my very best during these last seven years to show you exactly what you mean to me.  

You are my sunrise in the morning, the breathlessness of beholding a natural wonder that makes me feel so small.  

You are that deep, calm feeling that comes after spending time in the water, the reassuring rhythm of a horse's powerful movement as felt through the saddle.  

You are the smell of a campfire, the whisper of a breeze, the blazing glory of a post-storm sunset over water as far as the eye can see. 

You are everything. 

Happy, happy birthday, my sweet girl.  I love you so. 

~Momma