Two years. 730 days. My baby is two years old today. She wasn't even born two years ago for another 2 and a half hours. She didn't exist apart from me at this moment two years ago.
My labor started at 11:30am. I was no stranger to contractions, they'd made their appearance around 23wks. I followed procedure guzzling water, taking another anti-contraction pill and generally attempting to ignore them while also writing them down. When we got to 2:30pm and they were 2ish minutes apart Michael put on a fresh shirt, picked out a book to read and grabbed my "hospital bag." I was terrified. I refused to believe it was really happening. Think, Pam on The Office that was me.
As you can clearly see, even though I was only 34wks 4days I was out of room. I was ready to be done with pregnant. As they wheeled me into the OR just after 7pm I swear Riley was knocking to be let out. When they got me in position for the epidural I said "It's not the contractions I can't wait to be rid of, it's this foot in my ribs!". They warned me until they were just white noise to my tired brain that her lungs might not be ready. I told them I wasn't worried. Something told me we were both ready. She was born at 7:26pm screaming her little head off. Lung function was not in question and neither was her name. Clearly my little fighter was called Riley.
One year ago:
Second Birthday Party:
I have enjoyed every moment between then and now. I love her so much. She teaches me things everyday and learns twice as much. She makes me laugh 10x more than she makes me cry. She is amazing. She is a walking, talking, potty trained little miracle. I'd be lost without her.