Five

Five years ago, I was sitting on a rocking chair in a NICU holding my girl for the first time since she was born.

Five years ago, she was a tiny little baby, connected to tubes and wires. Five years ago, I was a baby too, unsteady and unsure.

So much has changed in five years. I've changed in ways both subtle and immeasurable. And so has she. A little baby so uncomfortable in the world, who cried and cried and cried has become a vivacious and brave five year-old. She's laughs easily. She protects her brother. She loves her father. She knows what she likes, and what she doesn't. She isn't scared to let her mind be known. She's a warm and nurturing playmate, a special friend to children little and unsure. She's sweet, and willful and intense and challenging. And she is exactly who she's meant to be. 

When I was about six weeks pregnant with Stella, I dreamed of a girl with red hair and swirling energy. From that early morning dream, I knew my baby would be a girl, and I knew she'd be this wonderfully intense human, so full of energy and life.

She's been with me for five years, but she's also been with me forever. 

Happy birthday, sweet girl. I love you more than all the stars.