ONE YEAR.

Dear Caleb,

For weeks I've thought about writing this letter. I didn't know how to begin it or end it or what would go in between. I knew I had so much to say and I wanted to say it right.

I've read blogs and books and articles from moms who try to describe their love for their children. The best, most honest description I've read is that it's indescribable. It's so true. I've searched for those adjectives, those phrases, those sayings. Anything that could sum up it all up. And I always fall short because I don't think such words exist.

You came into this world crying (a theme you continued steadily for several weeks). When I think of our first memory, I think of hearing your first cry and having tears everywhere around me. I couldn't help them or stop them and I didn't want to. It was love and relief and amazement and the most incomprehensible joy. I kept whispering "thank you God" over and over again.

You were precious. And so much work. It was the hardest, most important, most life-changing job I'd ever been given.

We learned and grew together. Sometimes we were patient and sometimes we weren't. Sometimes we followed the crowd and sometimes we just did it our own way. Every tear shed, every sleepless night, every mistake, everything. The road to today has been beautiful.

Before you existed I would often dream about what it would be like to be a mom. (Incidentally, in my dreams I was much more organized and patient and fun.)

It turns out that reality is a million times better than even my best dreams. It's amazing and humbling and miraculous to consider that God knew about you from the beginning.

I hold one year of your smiles, laughter, looks, cries and snuggles in my heart. I will hold them there forever.

God is good. And I knew this way before you, but it is only emphasized every time you smile. I melt. I stop what I'm doing. I catch my breath. So many times in day. You help me understand that the grace I've received is really truly nothing I ever deserved. And you remind me to be thankful for that.

You are only going to get older and this time we had where I measured your age in weeks and months is slowly slipping away. As I'm tempted to run backwards and live in my memories, there is so much of your life ahead and I can't wait to walk through it with you and see it all.

So today I am ready to celebrate a whole year behind us and so many more ahead. And even though you are not the best at listening now at 12 months old, I want you to listen up. I could never, ever have imagined that I'd have a son who I love so much, who can make me laugh hysterically, who can make me cry so unexpectedly, who makes the people around us be even more incredible than they already are, and who makes me so proud.

You've illuminated my world.

My buddy, my sweet love, my little man.

You have filled my heart with the indescribable.

Happy Birthday.

I'll love you forever and ever.

Mom

due date.

a year ago today was my official due date. but was caleb ready to come out? noooo.

there i was, the picture of ready. my feet were a size and a half bigger. my legs had doubled in size. my stomach was a giant bowling ball. i only had one outfit that fit anymore. i remember it fondly. a black tank top and wide leg yoga pants that fit snug around my calves. it was pretty.

my skin was itchy. i mean unbearably itchy. and red. and when i tried to take an oatmeal bath, i couldn't get out of the tub. i was too large.

on the plus side, luke gave me foot massages on demand and i indulged in my last days of "eating for two" by devouring all of my cravings: sliders, egg mcmuffins and fruit smoothies (only if they were truly smooth, though). and i barely had to do any laundry (because, you know, just the black tank top and yoga pants).

and caleb. he just stayed put in there. he was comfortable and warm, so why bother leaving? that is so caleb.

i remember spending my days on the couch watching "bringing home baby" and "a baby story" (which, frankly, scared me out of my mind). i tried to eat spicy foods, go for walks and drink red raspberry leaf tea. i even tried bouncing ever so gently on a yoga ball (little did i know just how important that yoga ball would be later in life).

people would e-mail, text and call asking why he hadn't come yet. i'd wake up each morning thinking, could this be the day? could this be his birthday? would i fall asleep tonight cradling my newborn baby?

nope. each night, i'd waddle back to bed and spend a restless night cradling my pregnancy pillow.

he wouldn't come out for seven more days. SEVEN. at 40 weeks, that is an eternity. and even then, i had to be induced. and even after i pushed for three plus hours, he STILL wouldn't come out so i had to have a c-section.

knowing caleb now, this doesn't surprise me one bit. he does things his own way on his own time.

and looking back, no matter how big or how uncomfortable i was, an entire week all to myself with a designated foot massager at my disposal sounds a little bit like heaven.

note: i tried to find a picture from said week and couldn't find a single one. not surprised. i must have threatened anyone who came near me with a camera.

seven more days til my baby is 1!

fall from grace - an ode to dotters

dotters, you used to be our go to. you made our little two week old caleb smile for the first time ever. and you've been his favorite for so long.

but then caleb started getting toys that moved and made sounds and were battery operated. i mean, really, how could you compete with a jumperoo or a giant house complete with a doorbell, windows, and its own mail service?

so nowadays, you are just thrown aside, stepped on and pushed away. you've been downgraded to a plush obstacle in caleb's path as he tries to make his way to his remote control helicopter.

poor, sweet dotters. you served us well. and even though caleb isn't showing it these days, i know he still loves you best.

my valentine.

well, one of them.

happy love day!

it's about time.

i hope this means he'll start doing his own laundry soon. it's about time he started pulling his weight around here.

another first.

i learned this weekend that they are some firsts you'd rather forget if you can help it.

caleb's first trip to the ER.

the good news (well, GREAT news) is that he is absolutely fine. we just had a little scare. but after being checked and poked and given some medicine and rest, he is back to being a fever-less, happy baby.

but this is what i learned.

1. thinking that something might happen to your child is horrifying.
2. we are blessed.

yes, i maybe would like to forget this incident, but it was also eye-opening. this was only one day in my life. one day of fear, worry, anger, exhaustion and helplessness. one day of my world coming to halt and nothing else mattering more than him being okay.

but for some families, this is their life. they are in and out of hospitals, fighting against percentages, giving up their whole lives to make sure their child is okay. i know some of these people. and i don't know how they do it. God has given them supernatural strength and they are heroes to me and i know they are heroes to their kids.

at the end of the day, i know this first made me more aware and more thankful. mostly, it made me more in awe of these amazing families who are in fight mode every day and do it all for their precious children.

you are amazing. i thought i knew, but i'm learning every day that i don't have a clue.