Two Years Ago This Morning

Two years ago, at 5:30 AM after two and a half days of labor, our daughter was placed into my arms for the first time.

I am a different person than I was two years ago this morning—in a lot of ways I am softer, quicker to tears and bubbling over with feelings; but in even more ways I am stronger, more capable and organized and willing to speak up when I need to. I am less willing to waste time, and I want things to be worth it, and I don’t care about anything as much as I care about my family.

I worry about things beyond my control, and I also worry about things I myself can manage. My abs are slightly less separated but my heart remains cracked open, spilling over with warm post-nap snuggles and fresh-from-the-bath baby skin, with skinned knees and playground slides and running, jump-into-my-arms hugs, with endless verses of “The Wheels on the Bus” and the tiniest little voice chirping up when I least expect it with a sweet “mama, I love you.”

I have also made a lot of chicken nuggets.

Two years ago I had no idea that the sleepy little newborn in the bassinet beside me would grow up to be the spunky, silly, sweet toddler who brightens our days and climbs everything and challenges me in ways I didn’t know was possible. Motherhood so far for me has been the most incredible, rewarding, difficult, and somehow also instinctual thing I’ve ever experienced. Every day I try to be the kind of mom that Sophie deserves—and for the most part that has brought out the best in me.

Sometimes I feel like I am slowly becoming my “old self” again, finding time here and there for myself and picking up a book every few days instead of every few months. But most of the time it is apparent that this woman—the one who scrambles cheesy eggs and spreads butter onto toast and cuts apple slices into matchsticks just in case, who reads Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? too many times to count, who checks the baby monitor before she falls asleep one more time just to see her daughter again—is who I’m supposed to be; at least right now. She is growing so fast and learning so much every day and I don’t want to miss a minute of it.

Two years ago I held our little baby in my arms as they wheeled me from labor and delivery to the maternity wing of the hospital, and I looked down at her face and couldn’t believe she was ours. Even now, two years later I sometimes look at her and am completely awestruck that she didn’t exist and then one day, she just did. I couldn’t be more grateful.

Happy birthday, baby girl. We love you so much.