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2 years ago today I was (impatiently) waiting the eviction notice I had given my unborn daughter to take effect.

She was 2 days past her due date, it's the middle of summer and I'm sweating places I didn't know where possible.

You wouldn't think 2 days is a big deal. But when you've gained 50+ pounds and your stomach is touching the tops of your thighs almost (to what felt like) your knees when you sat down, its a long wait.

2 days later, she was born (rather dramatically), via induction and emergency C-section. She had to be resuscitated, but she finally took in her first breath and she was here. 8 pounds, 9 ounces at 7:47 pm. The first thing I remember was hearing her sneeze. I didn't get to see her right away because of the resuscitation and my passing in and out, but when I did I feel in love instantly. Josh got to hold her first (you can't hold them while you are being sewn up) but I got to give her a kiss first, so it evened out.



Every day in the hospital I was elated and sad. Elated to have her here, my baby. For some reason this idea kept popping in my head "She will never be this small again, tomorrow she will be a little bigger." That was what made me sad. (blame the hormones)

I eventually forgot about that part because everyday was a new adventure and she slowly started getting her own little personality. I was also very sleep deprived some sleeping sitting straight up on our sofa for about 3 weeks.

Every minute with her, every day, has been a wonderful experience. Its hard, but worth it. I like to think that I'm a better person because of her. She made me hate less and love more. She is teaching me patience (that is an ongoing process).

These past 2 years have been amazing, and I'm so thankful to have our Willow in our lives. She is a sweet, wonderful girl. I also now realize that even though she is getting bigger every day, she will always be my baby, even at 6 feet tall.