In my mind, today’s post seems to carry so much more weight than most of my other posts because I know that someday my daughter will read it. My thought process is running a mile a minute, but I can’t seem to get my fingers to type the “right” intro. I’ve known that I wanted to do a first birthday blog post for months, but I just don’t know how to say all that I want to say.
Hadley Boo, I cannot believe how much I love you. I also cannot believe that writing that one sentence formed a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. I can’t believe that when I found out about you that I was scared. After 365 days of being your mom, I wish I could go back and shake the old me and tell that girl that she has nothing to be scared of but absolutely everything to look forward to.
You are so innocent, so perfect, so you. You have no idea how much power you hold. I find myself getting so lost in every inch of you that momentarily I’ll forget about every problem, every stress, every agenda that I had just moments before.
Sometimes when I’m tickling you, I lock eyes with yours and think about how you are the very best thing your dad and I could have ever accomplished together. Though babies have been born for thousands of years, you still just seem like the biggest miracle to me.
Though I love watching you grow and learn daily, I’m really going to miss baby Hadley and the adventurous little human that you are. I know that one year old toddler Hadley is going to bring us a whole new set of adventures and memories to cherish, but I know that one year old you is going to be different than baby you.
I’m so (so so so so) excited to celebrate your first of (God-willing) many many many birthdays. I didn’t realize until I became your mom what a big day a child’s birthday is to a mom (and a dad). While you’re admiring your cake and bright “1” candle and wondering why we’re singing you a silly song, I’ll be trying to wrap my head around where the last year of my life went. Your birth day was the single best day of my life. Seeing your quivering lip and hearing you holler at the top of your lungs was the single best moment of my life. I spent the first couple hours of your life in pure bliss. Bliss. As the doctors tried to explain to me what my body had just gone through to get you here, I was just staring at beautiful and perfect little you.
You’ve given your dad and I a wild 365 days. You’ve cried a lot of tears and you’ve laughed a lot of belly-laughs. I’ve cried a lot of tears and laughed a lot of belly-laughs. You’ve had some really good nights of sleep and even more not so great nights of sleep. Me too. And though what I’m about to say sounds cliché, I mean every single word. I’d do it all again a thousand times to experience the level of joy you’ve brought to me every day. I’ve never loved somebody as intensely as I love you.
Happy birthday little love! You are my dream come true.