They said my life would change, and that it would in fact never be the same. That’s what everyone said when I told them about you.
My belly was still flat, and you were so very tiny, microscopic even, but still friends, family, and even strangers couldn’t wait to tell me all about you. They couldn’t wait to warn me how my life would change when you arrived.
I got your room ready. I bought dainty white furniture, and I decorated the walls with bright colors, and scenes from Noah’s Ark. I bought the smallest socks I had ever seen, and I lined them up in a top drawer, nestled beside the tiniest bloomers I had ever laid eyes upon.
I got strollers, and a car seat too. I got a baby monitor, and even a special place to dispose of your soiled diapers. I looked at the newborn diapers, and I wondered if you could really be that small. My belly felt huge, so surely you were bigger than that.
I waited, and my belly grew even more. People still gazed at my enlarging tummy, and they would smile while they offered advice of how my life would soon turn upside down. I knew enough by then to realize I better nap while I could, but you had gotten so big inside me that I couldn’t rest no matter how hard I tried.
As I folded onsies, and prayed for your safe arrival, I felt certain of one thing. It was the one thing everyone seemed to agree upon. My life was about to change. I looked at your animal-themed nursery, and I straightened pictures on your wall. I’m ready, I thought. I’m ready for my life to change. That I knew.
You announced your arrival with steady, easily-timed contractions, and when my water broke suddenly at midnight I was nervous, but I was ready. I was ready for my life to change. Just like everyone had told me it would.
I remember crying when you first cried, and it was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. But I think what amazes me the most is how the memory of that newborn squall causes me to weep even now. That was the thing I never knew. I knew when I first heard that cry that my life was changing. What I did not know was that it would never stop.
I didn’t know that today, four years after your birth, that I would still be constantly evolving, adapting, and striving to be better. For you.
Despite everyone’s forewarning, even as God stitched you together in my womb, that you would change my life, I realize now that I didn’t have a clue. How could I?
How could I fathom the extent to which a tiny baby could capture my heart, or how God would mightily use that same babe to inspire profound change within me? I think even if I could somehow travel back in time to tell myself that I still would not believe, or be able to conceive such an alteration of my universe as I knew it then.
Because you see, sweet darling, you changed me. I know, I know. They told me you would, but I just couldn’t see. I couldn’t see what they meant at the time.
I assumed they meant less sleep, or more stretch marks, or even the cessation of going out on a whim. And while all those things were true, it was oh so much more than that. So. Much. More.
You changed everything. You were like a fire God placed in my heart, and you burn there still. You were a catalyst he used to stir the desire within me to be more, and he uses you still.
No amount of shopping, showers, or preparation could have prepared me for how I would feel about you. It couldn’t have prepared me for how I would suddenly place someone so much higher than I placed myself.
So although they told me I don’t suppose I really knew, at least not until we met in person. Today we celebrate your birthday, but everyday I celebrate you, and the changes you brought, and still bring to my life.
I love you birthday girl. So much. Certainly more than words can say.
Leslie says
<3 — this is wonderful!
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you!
sandra brooks says
Beautifully spoken. I know exactly how you feel!
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you so much!