one year

It is 3:27 pm.
One year ago today, I was in more pain than I imagined possible.
One year ago today, the anticipation of meeting you, and finally seeing what you looked like, was what kept me going through all of it.
One year ago today, I could not have fathomed how deeply and unconditionally we could love you, and how much you would change our lives in the best of ways.
Has it really been a whole year?

You have come so far in twelve short months---from a helpless bundle of needs to an assertive little person with opinions of her own. You're a gifted communicator, both verbally and with signs. Physically, you're coordinated and strong (if the grade school has a powder-puff league, you'll play linebacker). You're intelligent and perceptive, animated and outgoing, sweet and oh-so sassy. You are unequivocally Sadie Rain, and no other name could suit you as well.

As I lay in bed this morning, I was thinking of how those first few days and weeks were fraught with constant worry. We were terrified when you weren't breathing well, and had to be taken to the NICU for "observation". We stayed nights at a shelter near the hospital, missing you terribly and trying to remain positive. When we finally did go home, every cough or wheeze or tiny rasping sound had us awake and on edge, calling the pediatrician for middle-of-the-night advice. You slept in your carseat to keep your head elevated, and we at the foot of our bed to be near you. Life hung in such a seemingly delicate balance, but what we didn't realize was that you were so resilient, so determined---not unlike you are today.

The worry never completely subsides; it just changes, I guess. For now, we will worry about the bumps and bruises that happen as you climb off your rocking horse or trip over the rug. And that's just fine with me.

Happy First Birthday, Sadie Rain. We look forward to the joy, excitement, happiness, adventure, and---yes---worry each year with you will bring.