Two years ago, the night before labor day weekend, I laid alone in a hospital bed missing my husband and our two year old Jaye. I didn’t know it yet, but it was the eve of our daughter’s birth. Anyone who followed this blog back then may remember this was just one of many unexpected surprises.
This Monday, it will be two years since we welcomed Baby Z to the world. We knew she would be early, we just didn’t know how early (33 weeks, 3 days). We didn’t know how long it would be before she would come home. We didn’t know whether she would be ok or whether she would suffer any lingering effects due to prematurity.
We didn’t know so many things over which we had no control.
A year ago, I relived it all as she turned one year old. Today I woke up thinking about the day before she came and those pivotal moments that led to her early birth. I looked at old photos of Jaye toddling through the NICU and thought of her charming everyone on her way to visit her tiny new sister. I thought of Mac and how he shined those first long days, setting aside his own livelihood to care for his family for three long weeks. And I thought of Baby Z, and how unbelievable everything about her journey has been.
At nearly two years old, Z is truly a remarkable child. A real update will have to wait for a future post. For now I will say that she continues to awe and inspire. She pushes me to be a better, more patient parent. She reminds me to laugh every day. An adoring little sister, Z has cracked our family heart wide open with her endearing persistence and love and affection.
Still, I ask myself with some frequency, how is this my life? It is amazing. It is strange and wonderful and challenging and the most amazing thing.
Happy birthday, Baby Z. I wonder if you will ever know how loved you truly are.