A little one.
A small gathering of her closest friends (from her babysitter) and nearby family.
Her only request was "balloons and silly hats" and, thanks to great family and friends, that wish was granted.
We wrote Pippa her birthday letter this week, a birthday tradition in our house, and we tucked it safely into the back of her first birthday book. The funny thing about writing a letter to this sweet little gal, cuddle bug, mama's girl, baby joy is this: I have a really hard time conjuring up memories of her.
The best way I can describe it is this: Memory Fog.
I have a slew of hazy, almost-there memories of this beautiful baby girl but when I try to hone in on one of those memories, when I get too close, they disappear. The more detail I try to see the more nothingness appears.
What I remember about the first years of Pippa's life is a feeling.
The feeling of ease and safety and *normalness* when she arrived.
The feeling of her body, tucked in a carrier, heavy on my chest day in and day out.
I remember feeling her cuddled in as close as she could get while she slept beside me in bed for months on end.....the only way she would sleep.
I remember her easy, loving presence feeling like a warm hug and a reassurance and a *you're doing a great job mum!" and "I'll always love you" while I felt like I was losing her older sister...who screamed and yelled and tantrumed and made me feel like I was anything but good.
I remember feeling her calming, welcoming, uniting presence as her sister turned a corner and came back to me, to all of us.
So there it is.
I guess I do have some memories of this little one....though if you asked me when she started solids or or stopped breastfeeding during the day or took her first step, you'd be outta luck.
But I will remember this. Her first ponytail.
Because it was so cute and she was so proud and her sister was so incredibly excited for her.
And because I took a picture.
No comments:
Post a Comment