No expectations for you.
Only love. Today, my precious Monkey. You are 18 months old. 18 months, how is that possible?
I wasn’t sure you would survive inside me. You fought so hard. You won. You survived. You were born.
You were so not cute. Black and blue, cone head.. that’s what happens when you shoot out in three pushes. You get bruised, you get swollen, you get misshapen, you look funny. To the eyes. But my heart, oh my heart fell instantly.
Six hours old, just out of the NICU, you showed them. No fluid in the lungs could keep you down.
Now if only you could figure out who all these people are.
3 days after you were born we finally left the hospital. 2 days later, they wanted you back. Your bilirubin levels were off the charts. I fought. I would keep you on the alien blanket all day, I was nursing, you were trying so hard to thrive… God Bless your pediatrician, she fought for us. They relented. 11 days on a bili blanket and twice daily blood draws… finally you were declared, cured.
Only to come down with RSV. Life threatening. I have never been so scared in my life. But you fought. You worked. You tried. You won.
You have survived 3 severe bouts of RSV. You have survived, thus far, your overly enthusiastic sister, who thinks the moon and sun rise and set upon your command.
You don’t follow any charts but your own. You have two words and they are the only ones that matter. Mama and Dada.
You’re devious and mischievous. You know exactly what you want, exactly what we’re saying and precisely how to achieve whatever goal you set.
I have no expectations for you. Only love, prayers, hopes and dreams.
You make me laugh daily with your antics, you make my heart stop because you scale furniture and tables and attempt to swing from chandeliers. You have no fear, and yet you don’t want me out of your sight for long.
You have no idea how much I miss nursing you. Barely two months, and yet it feels like forever.
Your appetite for life thrills me, your disdain for safety terrifies me and your smile and laughter warm my very core.
You are joy, you are love, you are wonder, you are the perfect union of love. You are the ultimate expression of the love that your father and I share. You were wished for and prayed for. You are a granted blessing, a true miracle.
I hope that you will continue to walk your own path, take joy in all the you come across, I hope the world is always a wondrous place; full of new discoveries and beauty around every turn.
I hope you always realize that even when we aren’t able to physically carry you, we are still with you. You will always be lifted up in our prayers, carried in our hearts and never ever alone.
Monkey, you are 18 months old, but before I know it… you will be 18 years old.
I pray that at 18 years you are as sure of yourself, as you are at 18 months.
I love you my son, my angel, my heart.
Then, Now and Always
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