On Your First Year

Dear Ava,

You’re turning one year old in five days. I’ve been reflecting on your first year a lot lately, going through photos and videos of you, preparing a slide show, listening to our songs, planning your birthday party, and generally just marveling at all we’ve experienced and been through in one short, long year.

I found out on September 7^th, 2010 that I was going to be a mom. I was shocked. I just kept saying I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant.

The pregnancy was uneventful, in a good way. I was ecstatic to find out you were a girl. Even though I was already 100% sure you were; it was nice to have it confirmed. I had a lot of heart burn and Braxton hick’s contractions, gained 44 pounds (that’s the first time I’ve admitted that “out loud”) and walked a lot of miles, especially towards the end. 

You were a joy to carry for those nine (ten) months. I talked to you every day on my 45 minute commute to work each way; listed for you the people who loved you and couldn’t wait to meet you. It was a long list. I still do this at night sometimes when I’m nursing you before putting you to bed. I sang Golden Slumbers by the Beatles to you, switching Sleep little darling, do not cry and I will sing a lullaby… to Sleep little Ava Shay, do not cry and I will sing you a lullaby… because that’s what my dad sang to me, filling in my name. I still do this when I’m singing you to sleep at night. I dreamt about you and for you. Who you would be, what you would like and dislike, what you would think was funny, what you'd be when you grew up. I still do this when I’m holding you in my arms in the dark and you’re impossibly peaceful. Maybe this is why I don’t mind that you still wake up once every night; it’s my listing, singing, dreaming time with you. 

The moment you were born was marked by shock. It was not love at first sight as many mothers describe their first gaze upon their newborn. It was shock at first sight. Which is peculiar, considering you were nine days late. I mean; you had to come sometime. Maybe it was because the labor was so quick? I don't know. This photo really couldn't be any less flattering of me, but every time I see it I can feel the shock all over again.

P.S. I haven't seen your suck your thumb since...

The love grew. And grew. And still grows. In fact, I’ve noticed that every time you get sick; which is a lot, much, much too often, by the end of the whole, horrendous ordeal, I’m a little bit more in love with you. And I think you trust me a little bit more each time as well. It’s as if we got through another battle together and we’re stronger for it. And we did. And we are.

There have been so many fun and funny times too. You bring so much joy and pride to our lives. Your giggle is totally contagious. Your scrunchy face is to die for. Your little button nose couldn’t be more perfect. You’re a sweet girl, but you’re also a tough girl; which is exactly what I wanted. You’re probably the most social person I know, honestly. You wave at inanimate objects. When you do wave at actual people, and they wave back, you get high off the attention. You look at dad and I all excited to see if we saw what transpired, as if to say, It worked! It worked! My waved worked! A lot of times your dad and I just look at each other, over your little head in the middle of us, and we don’t have to say it, but I know we’re both thinking it, Where did she come from? And isn’t she just perfect? Sometimes you’re so cute or sweet or intensely beautiful that I have to look away, it’s too much.

There’s been many times during this first year, mostly in the early days and weeks of it, but it still happens at times, when it hits me, She’s mine. I get to keep her. And know her for the rest of my life. This is SO cool!

Thank you Ava, for making me a mom. Happy 1^st birthday.

And Many More,

Mom