Joy

I remember the day I got a positive pregnancy test. It was my third one, but somehow this one felt different, even early on. I was so excited that I went to Daddy's work to let him know. We tried to keep it a secret because of the previous miscarriages, but when morning (all day?) sickness hit, it was hard not to let others in our our little secret.

I remember documenting the growth of my tummy every couple of weeks, watching how you grew and changed me, and the kicks and turns were one of Daddy's favorite things to see in those later weeks. We got your nursery ready, others showered us with all the things we needed for you, and we waited patiently (or not) for your arrival.

The morning you were born was one of the happiest of our lives. I remember counting your fingers and toes when I finally got to hold you in my arms, and we couldn't believe how much you looked like your Daddy.  I cried all the way home two days later, and your Daddy didn't understand how full my heart was. Now, a little over four years later, I love you even more than I did then.

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