The first time her laughter unfurled its wings in the wind, we knew that the world would never be the same..

As I watch the days of March flip by on my calendar, I am forced to consider the inevitable. Grace Margaret is coming closer and closer to her first birthday. The day I couldn't even begin to imagine this time last year. 


   My pregnancy was nothing short of a roller coaster ride. Full speed, butterfly-inducing highs and lows that left my heart in my toes.  Twists and turns that left me white knuckled and a little green. And at the end, I was triumphant- but my legs were still a little wobbly. 
 For the first half of my pregnancy,  I was sick. So sick. So sick that I perfected a technique of being able to get sick while DRIVING to school without missing a beat. So sick I had to leave in the middle of a Neurology exam. 
For the last half, I just cried. About everything. About nothing. What I remember most vividly though, was at night, when the world was quiet, I would crumble. I would cry because I was so worried that I had already failed the little peanut somersaulting into my ribs. I was scared. 




I'm still scared. But I have gained so much. I recognize that I may sound crazy when I say that I consider my daughter one of my best friends. I realize she is 11 months old.I realize that in a few short years, I'll be embarrassing her. And after that, I'll be torturing her by my dictator reign, forcing her to do abhorrent things like come home by 11 and wear skirts that fall no more than 2 inches above her knee. But right now? My world is contained in that 16lb body, sparkling in those big blue eyes. She makes me laugh, constantly. We giggle until I have tears streaming down my face. She looks up at me like I'm the best thing she has ever seen & snuggles when I'm down. And that smile she gives us when she sees us peering over her crib in the morning? Talk about an instant self-confidence booster. 


Life, I've found, is a delicate balance between holding on to, lingering, in the past and moving on. It's hard to know when to let go...and I feel like parenthood is a constant contradiction. You get so excited about each new milestone, but behind that joy, is fear tinged with a little sadness. Knowing a baby isn't a baby for long. 

 Still working on that machine that freezes time. Because who wouldn't want to always see this?