I wanted to share a few thoughts with you. I know I've done a good job telling our friends and family about the extraordinary way you came into this world, and I know that I'm doing a good job keeping them updated on all of your current appointments and milestones and the generally adorable things that you do. What I have failed to do is tell you, and them, what went on in the few days before your arrival.
As we all know, you're turning one in a few days, so you can imagine what an unbelievable wreck I am. Last year I could do nothing but rub my world-sized stomach and beg to the heavens that this was all a dream, the doctors were wrong, the ultrasound techs were abusing perscription drugs and nobody knew but me, that you were just as perfect as the Gerber baby.
This time last year I was scaling the internet, reading books, talking to doctors and my head was spinning with the "What-ifs", the "How-comes" and the "What happens nexts?" I wasn't scared of you Roman, I was scared for you. I knew whatever happened we would conquer it together, as a family. What I didn't know was if you would be born in pain, if you would have other medical issues that were not yet addressed, if you'd walk, if you'd talk, if you'd smile and if you would love me. Every question that a mother could have for her son, I had. Except I had no answers. I had two weeks of no answers.
And then there was Roman! You came out crying, but it was a "What the heck just happened to me?!" kind of cry, not a "Help, I'm in pain" kind of cry. And yeah, we had some scary stuff happen, but we also had some amazing stuff happen. Roman you will walk, you can talk, your smile can and has ended wars and you love me, you really, really love me. And though this year has had it's uncertainies and it's unknowns there is one thing for certain and one thing I know, I have always loved you, too. Thank you for being such an inspiration, such a light and such a an amazing little boy.
Mommy and Daddy and Isabelle love and adore you. Happy Birthday.
Looking back to the day we told you that you were going to be a big sister seems like lifetimes ago. You were still sleeping in our bed and you still had your binky. Do you even remember that far back? I'm quite sure that you had no idea what we were talking about, but as my belly grew and the more we talked I think you understood that something big was going to happen. In fact, I think you may have started to get bored with the whole "little brother" talk after the first few months.
I know this has been such a hard year for you. Yet despite the chaos and how scared you must have been when mommy or daddy went rushing off with brother you stayed strong, loving, and amazingly understanding for a three year old. You have amazed me with your ability to love, to the fullest capacity a little brother who sometimes takes a lot of mommy and daddy's attention. Your willingness to help change diapers, hold the bottle, fetch the binky, pick out clothes, even to help Roman in his special exercises. I am absolutely smitten by your inability to see that anything is "wrong" with your little brother, to you, he's just Roman. And that, to me, is modern day miracle.Mommy and daddy are not perfect people, we are endlessly flawed, and sometimes you get caught in the crossfire of our stressed, flawed but always loving existence. If I could say 'I'm sorry" and have this rocky beginning not effect you, I would. But the truth is, I'm not sorry. You are learning, long before most 3 year olds one of the biggest lessons in this world-Tolerance, acceptance and above all, to love everybody. This lesson did not come easily or with much grace, our first year as a family of four was trail and a lot of error. I think we're on the right path now.
Isabelle, thank you for reminding us how to love, wholeheartedly. Thank you for teaching us that it's okay to say you're sorry. Thank you, for loving us all, with our flaws, and our quirks and our misjudgments and our tempers and even when we say no candy before breakfast. We're so proud of you.
Roman and Isabelle, you've inspired mommy and daddy in so many ways. We love more, we laugh more, we cry together. This year hasn't been easy, but obsessing about our amazing, unique children is the one thing we've done great this year.