One Year.

My Sweet Sweet Lucius,

You're a year old today. A whole 365 days. I just can't get over those words. I start to cry every time I think about it, maybe because I don't want you to grow up so fast but also because it's been such a rollercoaster of a year.

Those tears are mostly happy, joyful tears, but a little sad, too. I look back at our first year together and see the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. You have changed my heart in ways I never saw coming. You gave me hope back, and a light in my eye that I never thought I'd see. You filled holes so deep, that the depth of them hurt to bear. You were needed in my life, and God chose you so perfectly and he made you just as I had envisioned.

I had a gut feeling you were a boy from the beginning. There's just some things that a Mama knows, and that was one of them for me. I didn't even need the MaterniT21 test, I knew you were my son.

Looking back now, I wouldn't change a single minute in our journey, because the Lord knew what a precious, wonderful gift He was giving to me. It was worth every second of waiting. You were worth every hard day of waiting for a baby. You were worth every loss, and every ounce of pain.

Those first few days in the hospital were bliss, like out of a dream, but I don't think I had really slept either, because I couldn't stop looking at you. I couldn't believe you were actually here, and that you were mine.

Those first few weeks (well months, if I'm being honest) were a blur looking back now. They seemed to have lasted forever, but now I know they were really just a blink. The days were long but the months were really short.

I wish I could say I enjoyed every minute, but we both know that's not true. And I've learned as the year has passed that that's okay. I look back at photos of you in those first few weeks and barely remember you looking so tiny. People told me to cherish those days, because they pass so quickly, but all I could do is cry and wish for those days filled with reflux, tears, and guilt to be over already.

I think I cried some days because I was struggling so hard, but trying to hide it. I felt guilty for having such terrible postpartum depression and feeling alone.

I struggled with going back to work, which ultimately lead me to a fifteen month paid leave on short term disability, where I spent every moment I could with you.

And, we made it through. The Lord met me in those moments and truly redeemed the hard days and nights. I got to know you and you got to know me. We finally started figuring each other out, and the fog seemed to lift a little. There were less tears on both of our parts, lots more sleep, and finally the joy I was supposed to feel in the beginning.

It was hard in the beginning, because your daddy decided that we would be better off being coparents, instead of a family, and I just never envisioned my life that way.

I was so afraid of something happening to you, that I co-slept with you until you couldn't fit in your co-sleeper anymore, at around 6-9 months old, when you were moved into your own room. I will admit, I miss the co-sleeping and cuddling.

You got cuter with every day that passed, but I am sort of bias. I looked forward to getting you out of your bed in the morning, because you were so happy to see me that your smile almost leapt off your face. Your eyes became bluer and bluer with every day, too, and my goodness did your strawberry blonde hair just continue to grow.

You are the happiest boy Lucius, and You've already got such a big personality. When you smile, your whole face smiles. I pray that you always have that kind of contagious happiness in your spirit. It never fails--when we're out in public, we're stopped by no less than 3 people saying how beautiful or happy or precious you are. You're the center of attention, and for good reason! And, my goodness, what a flirt you are!

You've gone from a tiny little boy who had his nights and days confused to laughing, sitting, crawling, clapping, waving, and taking your first steps. You have teeth with a few more expected any day. You say "ma-ma," "da-da," "Ne-ne," "bye" and your new word is "ow" and you mimic a lot of words we say in your baby talk. You love your sister more than she knows. Your whole face lights up when she walks into the room.

I just can't believe we're celebrating you being ONE!

I can promise you this from this day on:

I promise to treasure every second from here on out. I promise to truly experience those moments. Even when it's hard, and even when you're so fussy that I just want to scream. Even on the hardest of days, I'm going to remember

every second, every emotion, every fear, and every joy.

I'm going to savor every new thing you do and every milestone we reach. Sometimes life happens way too fast for my heart and soul to process, but I'm going to do all that I can to make those first days up to you.

I promise to never wish a day with you away. You've taught me more in a year than I ever imagined--you saved my life and gave me back a life that is truly joy-filled and worth living.

Today is going to be a big celebration. I'll try not to cry too much, but if the tears come, I promise you, they're happy tears. You're one of the best things that ever happened to me. You were something I never thought would ever happen. You gave me light back into my life, and a reason to hope again. You bring so much happiness and joy into my life, and to your sisters. God knew we needed you.