When the hubs and I were dating, he sent me flowers for a random anniversary. The card said something like, "Happy 17 months because 17 is our lucky number." So random, right? And cute and funny and endearing.
But on February 17, 2011 at 10:45 a.m. somewhere on the side of the road in the middle of a snow storm, our daughter was born. Yet, that wasn't the day I met her. She entered my arms 17 days later.
Today as we celebrated the dawning of her third glorious year, I couldn't help but grieve those 17 days Anna Zane wasn't home. I am sad I didn't hear her first cry or change that first diaper or kiss her sweet face.
While she too may one day grieve that loss and wonder and wish, I've come to this conclusion, and it's one I pray she will share.
If I missed 17 days to gain 17,000, I'd make that deal every time.
170 sleepless nights.
1700 diapers.
17,000 giggles.
17 millions kisses.
All worth it and all worth so much.
Happy Birthday to a girl who dreams of being big, who jumps and skips and "flips," who believes friendship means something, who hides and seeks until she drops, who likes to win, who cares and nurtures.
Don't ever forget how loved you are!
1 comment:
Love her!
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