Everything about you melts me. Your infectious giggle, your soul-deep eyes, the way you dance whenever and wherever there’s music. It makes it all the more impossible to think I almost didn’t have you.
Your big brother, whom you so rightfully adore, came into this world seven years ago with a flash-boom-bang and a very scary arrival. And even though he recovered, I started slipping away from myself and the people I loved. It took a long time and a bunch of smart, caring people to help me get better. And I did a lot of hard work to shine again from the inside out, something I hope you will always know how to do with that bright light of yours.
But even as I got back to being me – the real, happy, creative me – I still never thought I’d have the courage to have another baby someday. There were things going wrong inside my brain that made me think that if I did, either I wouldn’t survive or my baby wouldn’t. But you were somewhere out there, waiting patiently for me, knowing we would be just fine.
And we were. And we are. And you melt my heart every day, reminding me how far I’ve come and how possible it is to love deeper, be braver and shine brighter after a storm. Your arrival two years ago today is etched in my memory as the day of your birth and my re-birth. As soon as you looked into my eyes, I was able to exhale. And now, I can’t imagine life without you. Happy birthday, my little angel.