On Your Second Birthday

Dear Annabeth,

Today I celebrated with a dear friend who is due to have her first daughter very soon. All your LPM aunties and I sat at a big table and feasted while Jennifer opened up one adorable baby outfit after another. With such confections, we hardly needed dessert. I'm sure everyone in the restaurant grew tired of our obnoxious gasping, squealing, and clapping.

All the outfits were adorable, but they were not the source of the grin on my face. I know, because God graced me with you, what a joy it is to have a daughter. I can't wait for Jennifer to experience it. I know what it is, after a wonderful rough-and-tumble boy, to see God's glory emerge in the femininity of a toddler who tilts her head to the side and smiles. Annabeth, how did you know to do that? How did you know to love the sight of yourself in a dress? What made you adore the tiara your daddy bought you for Christmas? Why do you sit at my knee and lean your face as close to mine as you can while I put on makeup? Why do you love unpacking my purse?

"The sweetest thing is realizing that there's one like you in the family," I told Jennifer a few nights ago. We'd gone to Starbucks and sat in the parking lot with our drinks and our seat warmers. Sometimes that's easier on a mother whose body is preparing for the grand introduction. I remember going through that same drive thru with Bibby and Aunt "Sassa" a few days after you were born. Melissa had me try the London Fog Latte. They were making me laugh really hard and it hurt something fierce.

Today is your second birthday. Some would say that you're not a baby anymore, but I'm not listening to them. My dear, I would give anything to go back to the first night when it was just you and me and Daddy in that hospital room. Every guest was gone and I didn't have to share you. I took a soft ivory outfit out of my bag and dressed you for the first time. You unfolded your 6 pound, 6 ounce frame and I took in the marvelous sight of my newborn daughter.

I wish I could hold you again like I did on that night - swaddled in a hospital issued flannel blanket and depending on me for every need. Pink and new and wearing impossibly tiny diapers. Now when I rock you in your minky dot chair, you think it's more fun to climb down and sing our songs while trotting around the room. Your brother, though, has come to love rocking with me again. Maybe you will come back around when you're getting close to your fifth birthday.

Last night your daddy and I crept into your room at 11:59. It was completely dark except for the light of my iPhone. You were laying on your back with your hands over your face. We whispered that we loved you and "Happy birthday, baby girl." Your daddy left the room to go check on the temperature in Jackson's room. I scooped you and your blanket out of your bed and we rocked for a few minutes. Your head rested on my shoulder and you were completely still and relaxed. You were my little baby again. I drank in the complete trust and surrender of that moment.

When you were a newborn, sometimes I would fall asleep rocking you after your feedings. I could have put you back in your bed right away, but I knew how my arms would one day ache to remember what holding your tiny frame was like. I would will myself not to forget. I would hold you tight, as if to leave an impression on my chest. You will keep growing and soon you'll be too big for me to hold the way I did last night. But I will myself to remember what it felt like to snuggle and rock my two-year-old birthday girl.

Annabeth, you are a spectacular little person. You have your mommy, daddy and brother wrapped around your little finger. You're full of sunshine and sometimes even firecrackers. I love who you're becoming. Sometimes I'd like to turn back time for a day, but it's so exciting to see you at this stage. You surprise us every day with something new you can do, say or understand.

I pray for God to give me the grace to raise you to love and honor His Son. We will walk with Him together and you will join your grandmothers and aunts in a heritage of serving Him. I pray that in the next year you will come to grasp the Lord's love for you.

I love you with all my heart,

Mama

Psalm 139: 13-18

For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.

How precious to me are your thoughts, God!
How vast is the sum of them!
Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand—
when I awake, I am still with you.