One whole decade.
That’s how old my baby is now. That’s how long I’ve been a mother.
I was 19 and pregnant.
I wish I could go back and tell the 19 year old me that it will all be ok in the end. The journey to “ok” definitely wasn’t an easy one, but we’re here now, safe and sound. Well, at least as “ok” as anyone ever is, I suppose. ;)
I spent her entire pregnancy in a state of pure anxiety mixed with extreme anticipation. And before I knew it, there she was–
Six pounds, fourteen ounces, and only nineteen inches long.
So very tiny. So very slimy!
The first thing she did was pee all over me.
Welcome to motherhood.
It was from here, her birthday, that the real journey began. We had a lot of growing up to do together.
She finally woke up when she was a week old, right around her due date.
Hello there, tiny bebe. Nice to meet you!
You know, I thought I would remember every single moment. But sadly, I don’t. This whole time in my life is almost a blur.
It was exhausting and scary at the time, difficult, exciting, uncertain, and entirely new.
It was saying goodbye to college, parties, friends, freedom, and career goals.
It was trying to breathe and accept something completely different than planned, and then welcoming something indescribable, precious and wonderful.
It was walking away from a planned future and bravely facing the unknown.
And it was worth every shed tear.
We celebrated Rosie’s birthday several times in July. Once with my in-laws, once with my parents, and then again on her actual birthday.
I feel incredibly blessed to be the mother of this clever, beautiful child.
Ten is such a milestone year, isn’t it?
Oh, my heart. Those first ten years went by way too quickly.
In my mind she forever looks like this:
Happy Birthday Rosie. I love you.
Check out a short vlog of Rosie’s actual birthday–