A Spring of Joy

This little stinker turned 2 this week.

Complete with a purse cake and lots of presents, our baby passed another milestone. You can check out the par-tay pictures.

I spent the day before crying. The day of celebrating. Now I’m back to crying again. It’s not that I don’t want her to grow up, because I know that is how life is. It’s the mourning of missing 9 months of her growing and changing and vibrancy while I was fighting cancer. How can she be two already? Because it truly feels like she was just one a day ago. I have struggled through not being there for her. Missing her passages. Not being able to pick her up when she cries. Watching her tag along with her brothers and babysitters. Out the door. Off to new places and new things. Things I couldn’t participate in. I have had to let go of a lot with her, holding her with open hands.

I think part of the grieving is being told we will have no more children. There is too much risk. I can wrap my head around that, but my heart hurts. I love babies. I love having them. I love feeding and diapering and snuggling and rocking and teaching. I even love the middle of the night feedings. There is something about having a baby in the home. I love their passages. Each step of learning.

Don’t get me wrong. I love every stage my children have gone through and are in. I love having sweet conversations with a six-year-old and learning to speak his language. I love traipsing through imaginary fields with Bear pretending to be the Dread Pirate Mama. I love each new word our daughter learns. What I know is inevitable, but what I hate to hear is “Bye, Mommy.” I just love having children in my home.

And I love watching them grow and learn. Hearing my little one go from “eeee-eee” to “night-night” overnight just makes my heart hurt a little bit. She says her name now and calling herself “baby” is becoming a thing of the past. She runs and jumps and spins and dances. She fills her purses with lip gloss and bracelets and loves shoes! She is becoming a little girl. But don’t worry. I don’t have the cart before the horse. I know she is still so young, and in our hearts she will always be our baby. I will celebrate each passing with her. She is just doing what every little one does. Growing up.

I pray every night for her as I rock her before bed. That she would run to Jesus when she hears mercy calling. That she would stay strong and healthy and be spared this blight of cancer. I pray for sweet dreams as she sleeps. I pray for the man that God may be preparing for her future. I pray that I would hold her out to God every day. I pray that she would be a girl who grows into a woman who lives the meaning of her name; noble strength. My gift. My two-year old treasure.

Happy birthday, sweet one. May you have many, many more.

A woman of noble character, who can find? Her worth is far above rubies. (Proverbs 31:10)