Three-and-a-half years ago, a miracle happened. Eight pounds and two ounces of happiness pushed, struggled and ultimately, joyfully, screamed her way into my life.
And since then, nothing has ever been the same.
For every single one of the 49 pounds I gained to give her life, I am grateful.
For every sleepless night, brought on by teething, illness or bad dreams, I am grateful.
For every day that begins before the dawn, I am grateful.
For every book read more than one dozen times, for every art project completed, for every Crayola design I have found on my furniture, I am grateful.
For every hug, every snuggle, every tantrum, every tear, I am grateful.
For every time I have held her sleeping body in my arms, I am deeply and humbly grateful.
Little One, you have taught me more about what it is to love than you will ever know. Your very existence--the fact that you are--has transformed my life in ways you'll likely never understand until your own pushing, screaming, living bundle of love comes to be.
It's you that I'm most grateful for, in every moment of every day. Thank you for being my child. Thank you, Sweet One, for being at all. By the very fact that you are, you have changed the world. And that is something for which to be abundantly, rejoicefully thankful.