Dear Holden,
Tonight, we will put a three year old to sleep for the very
last time (ever!) - and at exactly 7:42 am tomorrow, Christmas Eve, you will
become four. It's hard to imagine that four years ago right now, you were still
snug and warm inside the safety of my body. I had no idea your arrival was so
imminent - on the 23rd of 2012 we relaxed, hung out with your sisters, and
watched Christmas movies (most notably Elf, right before I went to bed that
night). I don't think I can ever forget going into labour with you; being
surprised by my water breaking first, marvelling at your relatively quick and
easy birth, and amazed at how gigantic you ended up being! Labour and delivery
is such a momentous occasion, that it's difficult for any mother to forget even
the more minute details. What I struggle with more is trying to recall all of
the mundane, every day moments since then. I remember the big moments of course
- what it felt like to see you smile for the first time, or walk, or how you
used to go crazy when I was changing your diaper and handed your pants to you. I
remember how smiley and happy you were as a baby, and how your curly hair grew
to match your impish dimples. I remember how much you used to be mesmerized by
Toy Story and how you obsessed over cars (still!). I remember how you practiced
putting everything in your lunch bag before the first day of school, and how
you looked when they wheeled you out of surgery, your lips all swollen and
bruised from being intubated.
But of course, there are thousands and thousands of moments
in between - moments that I wasn't even there for, moments that I don't
remember, moments that I probably don't really want to remember. The days are
long, but the years are short and all of that. People say it, but it's true. At
the end of some days your father and I feel helpless and frustrated and
exhausted, and other days we want to wake you all up after you are already
asleep in order to snuggle you some more and tell you how much we love you. The
busyness of life, the stress, the ordinary everyday tasks... sometimes these
things are overwhelming and keep us from enjoying the small things. But when
you smile at me, when you give me a big hug, when you giggle with your sisters,
when you spontaneously say "Mama, I LOVE you," everything becomes
crystal clear. There is no place on earth I'd rather be than here with my
family, and no greater love I could ever feel. I am so thankful that we were
blessed with your unexpected presence, and grateful that we get to be your
parents.
Thank you for the past four years and for your endless
charm, funny antics, your enthusiastic hugs, and your ability to fall asleep
anywhere. I say it every year, and it remains true: You are everything we never
knew we always wanted. Happy 4th Birthday to my favourite Christmas Baby!
Love,
Mama
