One

One year ago, I was in a hospital, holding this tiny, precious little person in my arms.

One year ago, she could only see far enough to see my face.

One year ago, I could only see far enough to get through the day. Through the hour.

And now here we are.

She cruises around the room holding onto the furniture. Prattles "Dadadaddatata,gah!" with such fervor. Eats frozen waffles like they're going out of style (but they're not). Hands me toys to play with. Climbs into my lap and wraps her arms around my neck.

I'm not sure how we got here.

I am sad. I miss the tiny bundle of cuddles that could sleep in my arms for days. I miss the tiny fingers closing around mine, then the little toothless smile. I miss her babyness.

But I love this little miss I have now. I love the way she plays with me, the way she emphatically makes her desires known. I love the hugs and kisses and the way I know she is doing it on purpose. I love the look on her face when she discovers something new, when she sees something in the world for the first time.

I've never been very good at change. I want to say I'm not ready.

But it's not really about me.

And on this day, nothing is changing. She isn't growing up, I'm not letting go. Today, we are celebrating the first year of Baby Girl's life, the first year of my life as a mom. Today we are looking back with love at every one of those precious moments and looking forward to all the wonderful things we'll be able to do together for years to come.

One year ago, Baby Girl, you and I had no idea what we had in store. Today, I think maybe we do.

Happy birthday, sweet child. But I'm still going to call you my baby. Always.