Eva was born on a cold December morning. The room was quiet. There was snow on the ground.
Her dad delivered her. I pushed for ten minutes and when Austin put her in my arms, I couldn’t believe she was mine. She was nothing like what I imagined. She felt startling, heavy, so different from her brother.
I couldn’t stop staring. She was so beautiful.
One year later and I know nothing more about parenting two kids than I did about parenting one kid, except that every day is new. Just keep swimming. When you know better, do better.
First birthdays are hard. Even though we know they will grow older, get bigger, start brushing their own teeth–there is always a part of us that fights for their smallness, mourns the loss of their newborn smell. Even though we know that they won’t always lie helplessly on our chests or coo at ceiling fans, it always hurts to let go.
People ask what it is like to have a daughter, and I don’t really know yet. Waylon is Waylon and Eva is Eva. They are so different in every single way.
If I had to pick an adjective to describe her it would be wild. Wild and full of ernest joy. I am Marmee and she is Jo, independent from the very first breath. A bright and happy dream.
Every year when we tell her about the day she was born, I hope we remember how quiet it was. How the love we felt filled the room. How even in those first moments, I knew she was different in the very best kind of way.
We named her Eva which means life, the first woman, the creation of a soul. Her dad thought of December, my favorite month of winter. A time of magic, of heartache, of healing. A time of astounding joy.
Happy Birthday to my sweet, fierce, and joyful little girl. We love you so.
Birthday crown and banner by Little Love Lane on Etsy.
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