three

I thought I knew just about everything three years ago and all of a sudden realized I'd never learned a thing. You came on a burning night filled with light and love and fright and calm and anxiousness and peace and laughter and blood. We held your tiny, tiny body and our tears mixed with your birthiness and we were all covered with the making of you.

That first night was the longest, the three of us in one small hospital bed, your daddy and I staring at you and at each other and wondering what we'd done. And yet you've shown us every step of the way what you need and how you love and what the world looks like because you are in it.

You've grown famously for the last three years my sweet beautiful girl, you've turned our lives and world upside down and on it's head and while I've often felt like I was clawing my way out I know now I was digging my way in. You are my secret, my joy, my breath, my deepest understanding of myself. I now realize my worth, my long resisting eyes screwed shut to the thought of this purpose that now has me peeling back the sun to crawl deeper into your heat. Because my child, you are the truest and brightest thing I have ever known.

I promise to keep doing my best to see the world through your eyes and meet you on rainbows so we can dance to the music and roll around in the rain. The gift, the incredible gift of you has humbled and honored and silenced me to tears while screaming my gratitude to the moon.

Thank you for choosing us to care for you while you grow into this world and make it your own. We'll always, always have your back and never fail to push you towards the sun. You are the most amazing and hilarious being I have ever met in my life and I know you'll love age three just as much as you've loved one and two. So let's rock it sister child because there is no one I'd rather be careening through life with other than you.

Happy Birthday to you.