Tomorrow, Dubya Bean will be a year old.
I honestly don’t know how we got here. A year ago today, I went in for my 39-week checkup and walked out a sobbing mess, texting my husband that Dubya was breech once again — and that my fluid was suddenly low and she needed to come out now. He was, of course, stuck in a retreat with his coworkers. But I’d been scheduled for a C-section that Friday … at least until my doctor called and said that he and his practice had held a meeting about my case and they all decided it was safest for Dubya to come out on Thursday.
I worked the morning of her birth, frantically trying to tie up the loose ends that I thought I had at least a week more to knot. My husband and I had also gone to have her carseat installed, where the (I can now recognize, quite attractive) fireman asked me when she was due … and his eyes bugged out when I said she was coming that evening. And then we went to the hospital, where we waited until I was wheeled into the operating room, my husband appeared by my head, and after the epidural and some tugging, I gave birth to a lovely little girl who gave a loud shriek.
The anesthesiologist said he’d never seen a smile as big as mine. He probably says that to every mom, but hell, it’s nice. As I was sewed up (wherein my OB admired my ab muscles), my husband held Dubya close by. He tells me that the first shriek made him realize: holy FUCK, we’re going home with a baby.
Then the struggles began with recovery, breastfeeding. We finally realized formula was best for us and Dubya began to grow by leaps and bounds. She then started to hit milestones early, slept well once we transitioned her to her crib, became a sweet and engaging baby. She started daycare, flourished there and became an outgoing kid, made us laugh at home. She started walking, got her first pair of shoes, started to give me epic side-eyes. Every day, we connected to her more and more until we realized the newborn days were behind us and we had a KID, an honest-to-gosh person who was growing up to be who she was going to be. It’s been so exciting to see her reveal her personality each day.
The last few days, as we approach her birthday, I find myself slightly emotional. Not because my baby is going away, but because I feel so lucky to have her. I’ve never wanted to freeze her in time, but I do want her to know that every single moment of this past year, from struggling with breastfeeding to the sleepless nights to the illnesses to the overbuying Tea Collection rompers has been worth it. Oh, so wonderfully worth it to see her become Dubya Bean in her own right. I will remember these moments and share them with her — she’ll probably think me sappy — but it has been wonderful, so wonderful, to see this little human being grow.
Happy birthday to the beaniest Bean there ever was. Love you, little gal.