Three years ago today I saw the face I had been dreaming about my entire life for the very first time.
Your sweet, perfect, angelic, beautiful face.
It was a hot Thursday in September and I could not wait to count your 10 little fingers and 10 little toes.
These days I often have to “count to three,” and you can count all the way up to 30.
I will never forget the first time I held you on my chest, which quickly went from you sitting on my lap, to sitting in a high chair, to jumping off off chairs.
I cherished the months when you were completely satisfied by mama’s milk….today you would love nothing more than living off of milkshakes.
Your little unswaddled legs kicking randomly turned into kicking a soccer ball all around my living room in the blink of an eye.
Today, after telling you I had happy tears the day you were born, you gave me a “happy kick.”
Three years ago today I stayed up all night just to watch you breathe. I learned very quickly that no matter what was going on, if I was holding you, you were happy. So I held you, and I held you. And I held you.
A friend of mine said, “people will tell you not to hold your baby too much or you’ll never be able to put him down. I say hold your baby all you want because soon enough he will say, ‘put me down mommy, I want to walk.'”
Three years later I know how true that is. Today you told me, “Mommy, now that I’m three, I can fly.”
Happy birthday son- even though there is almost no baby left in you, you will always be my baby.
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