Four seems so much older than Three . . .

Tomorrow is a milestone in the Taylor household.  My "baby" turns 4.  This may not seem so moving to anyone else, but it is incredibly moving to me.  Tomorrow, I tell toddler hood for her, goodbye.

 

Tomorrow is the anniversary of an early Saturday morning when I first felt the pangs of labor.  When I rolled over and nudged Ben to "wake up, I think I'm in labor".  "Its okay", he says, "Go back to sleep".  My thoughts:  Wow.  This is going to be a long day.  Finally after convincing him I was actually in labor (and a couple of other really gross signs of labor) we get ready to go to the hospital where I will inevitably spend the next three days. 

 

How do you explain to someone the feeling of your heart outside your body? 

 

How do you begin to summarize the feeling of all your hopes and dreams born into the world and handed to you on a blanket?  Glimpses of the very moment in time when the world stood still and the only thing that existed was this new baby.  Not the doctor, not the nurses --- Just. Her.  Her face, looking at me.

 

 

 

How do you explain to someone the fear of bringing her home?  That she depends on me?  Sure I kept her safe for 10 months, but that was natural.  What about this?  How do you explain in a sleep deprived mental state that some of the most treasured memories pondered in my heart are from 1, 2 even 3 am when she would curl her hand around my pinkie as she finally fell asleep?  How scared I was when I had to hand her over to day care when I went back to work?  Would they know what she wanted?  What if she cried for me, and I wasn't there? 

 

How do you explain to someone the feeling of your heart outside your body?

 

When she started to sit up.  The first time she scooted across the room (to the fat cat that she had been eyeing for months).  The first time she let go of the coffee table and walked across the living room.  The first time she went a whole day without a bottle.  The first time she slept in a big girl bed.  The first time she really went potty. 

 

Tomorrow, she is 4.  Where did it go?  What happened to that little baby?  She grew up.  And I watched.  I watched my heart grow outside my body.

 

If I, so infinitely human, dwell and ponder all these milestones and love with a love I never knew could exist before, how much more does my heavenly Father love me?  More than my mind can comprehend.  After all, He gave her to me, and I am better because of it.